Cry for Help
by Sera
Summary: The story is at its conclusion. So, DO Harry and Draco get together? Slash and excessive swearing.
1. Prologue - The Letter

Prologue ****

Prologue

Harry Potter sighed happily as he strung up this year's lot of birthday cards in his bedroom at 4 Privet Drive. He'd received presents from numerous people, including (most surprisingly) the Dursleys. They'd presented him with a small handkerchief – granted, it was stained all sorts of colours after Dudley had used it to mop up the remains of his disastrous picture-painting craze – but it was still kind of them. Harry was contemplating how grand it was to be fifteen – wow! Even the number sounded mature. He was about to turn in for the night, when a bedraggled eagle owl swooped in through the open window, dropped a sodden piece of parchment onto his bed, and flew out again. Harry picked up the letter, unfolded it, and proceeded to read.

July 31st 1995

Dear Harry Potter,

I know that receiving a letter from me must be the last thing you ever expected, and I wouldn't write to you either except for the fact that I am ignoring my natural pride – because I need help and you are the only person in a position to do so.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if you tore up this letter and burnt it to ashes and scattered the ashes on the wind – because you hate me. But then again, I haven't told you who I am yet.

((Harry had kinda figured out who it could be at this point – well, let's just say it wasn't exactly Neville…))

I'm really begging for your help, and I don't beg, but I am now, and Potter you gotta help me, 'cause you're a good guy and good guys do idiotic things like risking their lives to dig their most hated enemy out of a hole that isn't really your problem, Potter, and I have a bad feeling that you've figured out who I am and the letter will be keeping you warm in your fireplace but I really don't care anymore, I'm in deep shit and if you don't help me then I'm gonna end up in azkaban with the dementors feeding on my soul even though I'm not sure I have a soul anymore, Lord Fucking Voldemort's seen to that.

Okay here's what happened. I showed up at home with hex marks all over me, no thanks to SOMEONE and I don't even know why I'm reminding you of this, 'cause then you'll hate me all the more and even before I wrote this letter my chances of aid from you were slim to none. Now I figure they'll be none to minus ten. And anyway, my father doesn't even look twice at me. He doesn't fucking care, and you don't know how it feels Potter because you have no fucking parents, and alright so my parents aren't exactly loving at the best of times, but if someone attacked me they'd definitely react but this time he didn't. He just told me to follow him and I did, and we went down to this place I'd never seen before, and who was there but Voldemort and some sniveling bald guy and a big snake.

Don't get me wrong, Potter, I was shit scared, and Voldemort called me to him and asked me if I wanted to become a death eater, in as many words. And I wanted to say yes – I mean it's a great honour, to be chosen so young, and I'm still 14, and I opened my mouth to say yes, but what came out was no.

There was this silence and I was yelling inside my head what the fuck did you say that for?? And he asked me again and this time I thought I was gonna say yes but what I actually did was tell him to go fuck himself.

I don't know what the fuck got into me Potter, I think I'm going mad or something but anyways I ran outside, 'cause the look in his eyes said like he was gonna kill me very very slowly and I'm not as brave as you, Potter – I cant understand why I admitted that – and I jumped on my broom and took off heading for hogwarts 'cause I knew he couldn't follow me there.

So here I am camping in the forbidden forest and it's not something I would advise, Potter. I don't know what you're gonna do or even if you're gonna do anything – for all I know this letter might be roasting marshmallows by now – but a really decent thing you could do is to come down here and kill me yourself 'cause if Voldemort finds me I'll probably take a year to die.

Oh yeah – happy birthday.

Yours sincerely,

I'm really begging here Potter,

I'd really appreciate if - 

Ah, fuck it

Draco Malfoy

Harry paused when he got to the end, staring in disbelief at the scrawled signature at the bottom. He didn't know what to make of it. Finally, he propped the letter (now dry) onto the shelf beside the others (after all, Malfoy _had_ wished him a happy birthday, had he not?). He'd figure it out in the morning.


	2. I - A Person's Life

August 3rd, 1995  
  
It was dawn when Harry arrived at the Weasleys' residence. Their squat cottage roof glowed in the first rays of sunlight, and the rotund chimney emitted puffs of smoke contentedly.   
  
Harry thought back to the parting scene the night before at the Dursleys'. It had been one of the more touching departures - yeah, right! Uncle Vernon had muttered, "Take your time coming back. Better still, don't come back at all," before retiring to the evening news and a meagre dinner. Aunt Petunia had ordered him not to catch any 'germs from those… strange people…' if indeed he was returning. Dudley had deigned to tear his eyes away from the television screen for an entire three seconds to nod. By this time Dudley had enlarged to the extent that he could just about squeeze himself onto a three-seater sofa. It was like, "diet? What's that??"  
  
Bringing the Firebolt down to a smooth, perfect landing on the Weasleys' front lawn, Harry was greeted by Ginny calling merrily from the front window.   
  
"Harry!" she shrieked, waving her hands frantically. At fifteen, she had grown into a graceful, slim girl with flaming red waves of hair trailing down her back. Behind her, Ron was yawning in his pajamas, making some attempt to eat his breakfast. Fred and George, on the other hand, were snoring contentedly into their cereal.  
  
Molly and Arthur Weasley greeted Harry at the front door. "Harry, dear… lovely to see you again. Hope those Muggles haven't been wearing you down too much…" as Arthur bustled off to work and Molly ushered Harry inside.  
  
"Morning, 'Arry," mumbled Ron. "Would you like … some…" the rest of his words were drowned out by a massive yawn, so he gestured vaguely to the table. Harry sat down and helped himself to buttered toast, a luxury he did not get at the Dursley household.  
  
The morning proceeded slowly. By the time Ron was fully awake, it was almost noon and Harry was getting restless. Fred and George noticed, and delightedly set up a game of broomstick tag in the front garden. Within five minutes Percy was hollering for them to keep it down.   
  
"…And how am I supposed to get any work done if you lot are constantly making such a racket… enough to wake the dead… at this time of night… absolutely inhuman…" Everyone stood by and grinned while Percy ranted on. Harry was warmed. Percy hadn't changed in the slightest. He felt at home.  
  
"Perce, it's the middle of the afternoon," chortled Fred.   
  
George leaned in to Harry and whispered conspiratorially, "He hasn't yet realised that we fixed his hourglass so that it always reads 12.15am."  
  
Percy was defying the need to breathe. "And I don't know what you kids are up to these days, making all sorts of mischief at unearthly hours…"  
  
"Percy," Ron interrupted, "What time is it exactly?"  
  
Percy roared, "Twelve fifteen, of course…" he broke off and looked confused as he took in the teenagers waiting below in the bright sunlight.  
  
Ginny snickered, "And I suppose that apart from playing tag, we've invented a spell to make the sun shine at night?"  
  
It was too much for Harry. He doubled over, choking on his mirth. It was made all the funnier when Percy began accusing everyone in sight of rigging his clock, including his mother, and Fred and George assumed identical, "Who, us?" faces. Soon everyone was rolling on the ground in stitches.  
  
It was late evening before Harry had a chance to move into Ron's room and unpack his things. As he was doing so, a small stack of parchment fell out.  
  
"What're those?" enquired Ron, pointing. Harry retrieved the letters.  
  
"Oh! I'd forgotten about these. They're the birthday cards and things that people sent me. Look, here's the one from you… and Hermione… and Hagrid… and …"  
  
Ron peered over his shoulder at the scribbled handwriting. "And… Malfoy?!?!" Pause. "Now why would he be writing to you?!?!"  
  
Wordlessly, Harry handed him the letter.  
  
"Geez, Harry, this is serious… On the other hand, this is dynamite! We can spread this around school, that Malfoy Senior really is a Death Eater! I mean, Paleface has been denying it for years… and now, revealed by his own written hand…"  
  
Harry did not laugh. "Ron, this is serious. We're talking about a person's life here…"  
  
"Excuse me? A *person's* life? Nuh-uh, I don't think so buddy. Malfoy is not a person. He does not have a soul, and he would probably be better off in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' with a rating of four stars." retaliated Ron.  
  
Harry looked and felt stricken. "Ron, he's written to ask me for help. Do you really think that I should just ignore him? I mean, give me your honest opinion. If Malfoy had asked you for help, what would you do?"  
  
Ron opened his mouth to answer…  



	3. II - Decisions Made

August 4th 1995  
  
Harry said, "Ron, I can't believe that you think I should ignore him."  
  
Ron paused with his toothbrush still in his mouth and glanced at Harry's reflection in the mirror. He leisurely completed the cleaning of his teeth and turned to Harry.  
  
"Harry, let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was so pale he was practically an albino, but his daddy was the biggest meanest Death Eater on the face of the planet. So he gets the feeling that he's better than everyone else, you know? Even though with his colouring he could likely fetch thousands of Galleons by exhibiting himself as a paleface freak in a circus show, he still strutted around Hogwarts like he owned the place. Maybe he did in a way, seeing as his daddy was pumping most of his cash into getting his son good grades."  
  
Harry tried to interrupt, but Ron wasn't finished yet.  
  
"As if that wasn't enough, this brat had to pick on other people. It was fun, for him. He was such a bully, and he never went anywhere without his two bodyguards. When one person did have the guts to stand up to him, he'd curl into a little ball, cry, and threaten to tell his precious father. Who would then storm up to the school and curse everyone in sight. Are you following me here?"  
  
Harry jumped in as Ron paused for breath. "Ron, I don't think you're being entirely fair to the guy."  
  
Ron wound himself up again, righteously indignant. "Entirely FAIR?? FAIR?? Harry, the guy's a wanker. For SIX years he's been teasing everyone possible. Have you forgotten? 'Oh, look, it's Potty and the Weasel, with their tagalong Mudblood'." He mimicked Malfoy's voice in voice in high pitched tones. "What about, 'Hey Scarhead, your tattoo's peeling. You better get it redone or you'll lose all that attention you've been getting'. Harry, he's SCUM! He's worse than scum. He's… he's the sort of scum that even scum calls scum."  
  
Harry spoke up again. "Ron, be quiet for a minute and listen. I agree that his character isn't entirely… wholesome… but shouldn't we help him anyway? That's what we do! Besides," he added maliciously, "what a loss it would be to the Hogwarts stud pool."  
  
Ron sighed. "It's your choice, I guess. But I'm not coming. You can risk your neck helping the guy, who for all you know is leading you into some elaborate trap concocted by his dear father, fine. But sorry Harry, friendship does not extend to allowing myself to be killed by this guy I hate." His tone of voice made it completely clear that he considered this discussion to be over.  
  
They gave the bathroom up to Ginny, who was waiting none too patiently outside, and headed for breakfast, or perhaps more accurately, lunch. Molly Weasley was at the stove, brandishing her spoon.   
  
"And exactly WHAT unearthly time were you two in bed at last night? It's nearly noon!"   
  
Ron stifled a laugh. He, Harry and Ginny had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, playing a new game known simply as "Splat". Harry had received it as a birthday present from Fred and George, whose trade in tricks had raged through Hogwarts. They'd already bought an empty lot in Diagon Alley and would open their shop there, now that they'd completed school. The game they'd designed consisted of a board with counters that moved around. Like all wizard games, the pieces could talk, more or less. The blue die that came with the game was a temperamental one, but if sufficiently cajoled, it would roll to whatever number was requested. The counters refused to share squares, and would bump their opponents off the board if not scolded. Harry's version was a prototype, and the actual thing was expected to be marketed early November. "Enough time for the kids to decide that they want it for Christmas," George had grinned.  
  
"Gin, is Tanya coming?" enquired Ron over breakfast / lunch. "She should be here by now, shouldn't she?"  
  
"Dunno," Ginny mused. "She was supposed to be here at ten."  
  
Harry thought he heard a disapproving, "While you lot were snoring in bed" wafting in from the kitchen over more mouth-watering smells. "Who's Tanya?" he asked.  
  
Ron said, "Ginny's friend. Gin wanted her over to stay for a while, and since there's only one spare bed in her room, Hermione couldn't come until she left, which should be on the 12th. If she's coming at all," he added, glancing up at the clock.  
  
As they were polishing off the remainder of breakfast / lunch, an owl swooped into the dining room with a scroll. "It's from Tanya," exclaimed Ginny, recognising the trademark purple crepe ribbon holding the scroll closed. She opened it and read it out loud. "Dear Ginny, Terribly sorry but I am not able to make it to your house this summer as I have broken my leg, and the doctor says I must stay at home. What a drag! Hope this doesn't cause any problems for you. Tanya."  
  
Ron looked away from the window where he had been staring at a glorious summer day. "Owl Hermione and tell her to come over now," was his only comment.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Hermione arrived late that evening, well after dinner. Harry watched her cheerily wave goodbye to her parents as they drove off in their well-used BMW. He had time to greet her with "How are…" before Ron grasped their arms and yanked them none too gently to his bedroom, where he slammed the door with a thud that shook the frame. He was tense and succinct. Pointing to the bed, he barked, "Sit!" Then, looking at Harry, "Explain."  
  
Harry was mystified. "Explain what?"  
  
Ron pursed his lips. "Malfoy."  
  
Hermione's eyes were flicking from one to the other as though she was watching a Swivenhodge match. It was quite clear that she thought the two of them equally mad. But as Harry extracted Malfoy's letter from his bag, and handed it to her, her brow furrowed in worry. After reading the letter twice, she looked up again.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
Harry said, without any particular weighting of words, "I haven't replied yet. Ron didn't want me to do anything, as he thinks this might all be a trap. Yet, somehow, I think it would be the right thing to do if I went."  
  
Hermione flared up. "Of course it would be the right thing to do! I mean, you saved Wormtail, didn't you Harry? This is the same thing!"  
  
Ron interrupted with, "Well, not exactly, Hermione. See, if Harry left him, it wouldn't be like allowing Sirius and Lupin to kill him. This is Voldemort we're talking about! It'll be no black mark on his conscience, I can tell you that! And Malfoy. If anyone deserves to die, it's him. He was happy when Cedric died. Why can't any of you seem to remember?"  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, but it was Harry who answered. "Because we're the good guys, Ron. If I allow him to be killed when perhaps I could have saved him, it would be as if I killed him myself. Sirius feels that guilt over my parents, no matter how many times I tell him he couldn't have known what was going to happen. Alright, so this may be a trap. But I don't think so, and I can tell that Hermione doesn't either." Hermione nodded in silent assent. "So, if Malfoy dies, won't it be my fault?"  
  
Ron gazed resignedly at both of their set faces and stubborn, determined chins. He sighed heavily. "Well, Harry, it's your choice of course. And you too, Hermione. But there's no way in the seven levels of Hell that you'll make me go with you." With that, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door.  
  
Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek as he sagged, defeated, onto the coverlet of Ron's bed. "I'll be with you. It should be enough. All we have to do is get Malfoy and get out of there, right? No reason to go looking for Voldemort, especially when he's returning to power. Nothing we can do on our own, right?" She was half making a statement and half wanting reassurance.  
  
Harry nodded wearily. "Right. We'll go as soon as we can."  
  
Hermione said, "Shall I go say hello to Ginny, then? I'll leave you and Ron to sort things out between you." With that, she left, allowing the door to hang ajar. Harry got to his feet to close it when Ron reentered the room, abashed.  
  
"Harry," he began, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad, it's just that… I really hate Malfoy! And I can't stand the thought of you out there in for Forbidden Forest, risking life and limb to rescue a guy who'll turn around and stab you in the back first chance he gets!"  
  
"Ron," Harry interrupted, anticipating one of Ron's heartfelt apologies, "You can come with us, it you want."  
  
Ron's face hardened. "I just came to say I'm sorry. I'm still not going."  
  
Harry sighed. "In that case, if we don't come back, you can comfort yourself with the fact that you were probably right, and that Hermione and I died because you weren't there to watch our backs. And don't forget to tell people what happened, will you? I'm sure Rita Skeeter would love a legitimate interview with The-Boy-Who-Lived-Who-Finally-Died's best friend. You can tell her everything, okay? I promise I won't mind if you inform her about the fact that my first pair of pajamas was pink and covered with bunnies. At that point I'll be past caring."  
  
Ron went white. "Harry… I'm sure nothing will… happen…"  
  
"One can't be too sure. I think I'll go to bed. Goodnight, Ron."  
  
It was harsh, he knew. His mind was reeling. How was Ron taking it? Perhaps, if it was Wormtail who so desperately needed rescuing, would Harry be inclined to save him? Not likely. But then again, Malfoy hadn't killed anyone's parents…  
  
-End Chapter Two-  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's read this far. It's coming quite slowly... I seem to be afflicted with a permanent case of writer's block, and haven't written anything for a long time. Chapter Three coming as quickly as is humanly possible (for me)! Keep rocking!!  
  
Disclaimer: Tanya can be taken by anyone at all... she's just a name! Her "trademark purple crepe ribbon" was pulled from the recesses of my imagination and I'm feeling rather possessive of it. "Splat" is a made up game. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling (All hail the Goddess!!)  
  
--Sera 


	4. III - Today's The Day

August 6th 1995

August 6th 1995

9.14 am

"Morning, Harry!"

"Good morning, Hermione. Hi, Ginny," Harry nodded his greetings to the two girls already seated at the table. Stacks of toast and waffles were heaped randomly around the table. Fred and George were yawning but dressed, and Ron was smiling one of his first real smiles for a few days.

Fred frowned mockingly. "The Great Harry Potter does not deign to wish us a good morning? His Highness is obviously in a foul mood on this fair dawn, do you not agree, Sir George?"

George replied with a perfectly straight face, "I feel snubbed, Lord Frederick. I must now hang myself from the attic."

Contented laughter carried into the kitchen, where Molly Weasley was bringing out maple syrup and vanilla ice cream. There was a way-out-of-proportion commotion as Ginny and Fred fought for the syrup. During the hubbub, Ron looked at Harry and Hermione. "Are you going tonight, then?" he asked in a lowered voice.

Hermione was startled. "How did you know?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Well, I am psychic, you know."

Harry playfully smacked Ron across the back of the head. "I told you last night, you twonk!"

"Well, that would be a yes then, no?"

"You're not mad at us because we want to go, are you Ron?" Hermione enquired anxiously.

Ron made a sound approximating "Nah", and Hermione took that positively. "That's settled then," she grinned cheerily into the sudden silence. "Anyone for a game of Splat?"

* * * * * * *

11.59am

Over lunch, Molly Weasley made a shocking pronouncement. "Tonight, Arthur and I will be attending a gala ball for Ministry employees. Can I trust all you children to amuse yourselves in the house after eight pm?"

(Alright, not that shocking. I was just trying to make it interesting)

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Today would be the day, then. All they had to do was wait.

* * * * * * *

After what seemed an eternally long time, Mr and Mrs. Weasley left for their gala ball. Ron had, reluctantly, agreed to distract everyone else while Harry and Hermione made their getaway on their respective brooms. The snag was that it was a LOT easier said than done.

Ron yawned widely and convincingly. "It's been a long day. I think I'll go to bed. What about you guys, Harry and Hermione?"

George, who was the only other person in the room apart from the Terrible Three, goggled until his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Ron," he spluttered, "It's eight thirty. How can you be sleepy at this very early hour?"

Ron said, "Maybe it's the fact that I stayed up half the night…"

"Doing _what_, exactly?" George's tone was laced with suspicion.

Harry interrupted, "I think I'm going to take a walk. Anyone want to come?"

Hermione stood up. "Me too, I mean, I'll tag along. It's nice out." Unfortunately, Ginny had wandered in and also volunteered to ramble in the dark.

Ron muttered, "Good luck" to Hermione as she passed him. Hermione whispered in reply, "Sure you don't want to come? It'll be some great adventure." She wasn't sure if he'd heard or not.

Outside, they tried very hard to shake Ginny. They tried every range of excuses from "you ought to be in bed by now" and "there are snakes in the grass" to "the boogeyman will eat anyone younger than 15". Finally Ginny, looking slightly hurt, said, "You know, if you guys don't want me around, I understand."

Hermione hurriedly said, "No, Gin, we like you, but…"

"We want to be alone so we can make out." Harry interjected with a completely serious expression on his face.

Ginny glanced from one to the other and giggled. Without another word, she turned and left, calling, "Ron! Wait till you hear this!"

As the pair mounted their brooms, Hermione uttered darkly, "Harry Potter, if we come out of this alive, I swear I am going to murder you."

* * * * * * *

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. No questions asked.

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	5. IV - Rescuing Draco Malfoy

It must have been nearly midnight by the time they reached the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest

It must have been nearly midnight by the time they reached the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Or at least, that's what it felt like, since neither Harry nor Hermione had brought a watch. They dismounted in unison, took out their wands and muttered, "Lumos."

Harry picked up his broom and started off into the Forest, motioning for Hermione to do the same. It was darker than black at the edge, and the shadows intensified the further in they went. Harry wondered briefly how Malfoy could have possibly lived here for over two weeks. Perhaps this _was_ a trap…

He stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Hermione to ram into him from behind. "Harry," she quavered, "Maybe we should yell for him."

As they shouted, "Malfoy!" through the undergrowth, Harry stumbled on a root and would have fallen flat on his face if not for a thin, pale hand that grabbed his arm and yanked him unceremoniously into a hollow.

"Malfoy!" The boy was paler than he'd ever remembered seeing him. His arms were thin and brittle, covered with raw scratches and blisters. His whitish hair was snarled into a mess, and even in the faint light from his wand Harry could see that one side of his face was singed. Malfoy's appearance erased any doubts about whether this was a setup.

Malfoy said, "Potter… I didn't think you were coming." A twig somewhere above their heads snapped, and Malfoy froze into that classic deer-in-headlights pose. Harry reached out and touched him soothingly, only to have this gesture met with Malfoy jerking away as if burned. Taken aback, Harry said, "It's okay. That's only Hermione."

"The Mudblood? What's she doing here?"

"She came with me to rescue you," Harry said, poking Malfoy in the chest to emphasise his point. "You'd better be nice to her."

Mumbled assent.

Harry started to get up, but Malfoy clutched at his elbow and pulled him down. "Where the hell are you going?" he said, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "You aren't going to leave me here, are you?"

Harry sighed, and looked at the younger boy. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"But isn't it easier to just kill me and get it over with?" Harry stared, perplexed, but Malfoy was going on. "The bald guy must have heard you. He'll be coming any minute now. If you don't hurry, he'll get you."

Harry shook his head. "Malfoy, you can't seriously have thought that I'd kill you just because you want me to." The grey eyes widened. "But you hate me."

"Look, let's get out of here before the bald guy - Wormtail - comes. We'll argue later."

Malfoy followed Harry out of the shelter, then whistled. The same eagle owl that had delivered Malfoy's letters and parcels for the last four years descended from one of the trees and perched itself on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy petted it and crooned, while Harry followed Hermione's light as it steadily made its way back to the edge. Harry explained, "Hermione's got her Cleansweep. You ride on my broom."

Malfoy's eyes glittered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Potter?"

Harry almost punched him. He grated, "This is no time for jokes, Malfoy," then concentrated on finding the way back. When they reached the clearing, Hermione was waiting for them. "I assumed you'd found him," she said curtly, not even looking at Malfoy.

Harry glanced in Malfoy's direction, and was startled to see him backing slowly towards the trees. He followed Malfoy's line of sight, and saw a bald man running towards the group. "Wormtail," he hissed under his breath. Then, "Hermione, get on, quick. We have to leave now."

Hermione had also seen Wormtail, and was wasting no time. Harry pulled Malfoy towards the broom - too slowly! Wormtail was almost upon them, arms outstretched…

With a wild yell, Ron Weasley catapulted off the back of his ancient Shooting Star and smashed into Wormtail's back. "Harry, go!" He shouted. "I'll hold him off!"

Harry scrambled onto the Firebolt, Malfoy behind him, and pushed off. Ron hit Wormtail with a full body-bind, and followed suit. The four humans and one owl were airborne, Ron laughing with victory, and headed back to the Burrow.

* * * * * * *

The journey back seemed to take only a fraction of the time it took to get there, even though the traveling pace was dictated by the speed of the slowest broom. Ron checked the time and discovered, to everyone's surprise, that it was not yet eleven. They would be sure to reach the Burrow before Ron's parents got back.

"I couldn't do it," admitted Ron. "I couldn't just sit at home and wait for you guys to come back. I kept imagining that you were being killed, or tortured, or something even worse… I think it must have been a whole ten minutes before I dragged out the broom and went haring after you two."

Hermione flashed Harry a see-I-told-you-so look. Malfoy, sitting behind Harry, was complaining good-humouredly. Ron had earlier commented on Malfoy's good mood and attributed it to his daring rescue. He also darkly predicted that Malfoy would be back to his normal, insufferable self by the following morning.

"Potter, I'm falling off the broom here," needled Malfoy. 

"I thought you were supposed to be a good flier."

"Let's see how well you play Quidditch sitting on the twig end of your broom."

"Well, hang on to my waist then," retorted Harry.

Malfoy hesitated, then, glaring at Hermione's knowing grin, put his arms loosely around Harry's waist, causing him to jump. "I wasn't serious, Malfoy," protested Harry.

He was answered by a flash of white teeth as Malfoy grinned nervously. "I was."

They talked about Malfoy's stay in the Forbidden Forest ("Awful"), how he survived ("Mushrooms. Rastaban, my owl, foraged them for me. Come to think of it, I'm lucky I didn't poison myself") and why he wrote to Harry for help.

* * * * * * *

"Here we are," announced Ron, dismounting. "The Burrow."

Malfoy stared. "This is your _house_, Weasley?"

Ron bristled. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, nothing," replied Malfoy hastily. "It's great. It's big. And clean. And very un-scary."

Ron snorted dismissively and led the way through a back door, leaving the brooms in the kitchen and sneaking upstairs. All was quiet and serenely dark (unlike the Forbidden Forest, which was eerily dark). They crept towards Ron's room and -

A blaze of light nearly blinded them. Ginny barred their way in her nightgown, having turned on the landing light and flooding the corridor with brilliance. She looked like some kind of titan (despite being shorter than all the others) with one hand on a slender hip and the other brandishing a thunderbolt of power, scarlet hair cascading down her back in waves and her ivory robe swirling around her legs. As their eyes unblurred, she became Just Ginny again, waving a toothbrush.

"Ron, WHAT are you doing, looking like you're on a commando mission at one in the morning?" whispered Ginny. "Everyone else went to bed long ago, and hang on, didn't you go to sleep at eight thirty?"

"Um…" stammered Ron, scooting sideways like a guilty toddler in an attempt to block Malfoy from view. All this achieved was to draw attention to the blond boy.

Ginny did a double take, then rubbed her eyes. "I'm going to go to sleep. I've obviously been staring at the tiny print in my book for too long. I could swear I just saw Draco Malfoy there." She turned around and wobbled back to the open door. Hermione waved a cheerful goodbye, and followed her.

Draco, Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Where do I sleep, Weasley?" asked Malfoy.

Ron said, "Ssh!" and beckoned them towards his room.

Inside, they shut the door. Ron looked at the bed as if he'd never seen it before and stated the obvious. "One bed. Three of us." He looked apprehensively at Malfoy, who threw up his hands in surrender.

"Look, you guys can have your tryst. I'll sleep on the floor," said Malfoy, and duly lay down and rolled over, saying, "Good night."

Harry whistled, "Well, how about that!" while Ron looked incredulous.

"Not even one insult…" he was saying as they changed into their pajamas.

Harry coughed. "Actually, there were a couple. You know what a 'tryst' is, don't you Ron?"

"A what?"

Harry was wondering how to explain it to his best friend, since they had been sleeping in the same bed every time he'd come over, when Malfoy said, "If you have a tryst with someone, Weasley, it means you fuck them."

When this sank in, Ron sighed. "Sorry, Malfoy, I'm finding it hard to be insulted by someone whose own father is at this moment hunting for his blood." There was no reply. Ron and Harry climbed into bed and turned out the light.

A deep silence covered The Burrow.


	6. V - The Morning After

August 7th 1995

August 7th 1995

When Ron and Harry woke up in the morning, there was no Draco Malfoy on the floor next to the bed. Instant panic.

In their frantic search of the small room, Harry discovered Malfoy's soiled clothes in a heap in a corner. To Ron this was cause to go absolutely ballistic. "The bastard's walking around naked in my house! With my parents home and everything! And my sister!" his eyes were flicking around. "Ginny! By now Malfoy could have raped her or murdered her or something! We've got to do something!"

When they raced downstairs, they didn't find Ginny's body, but instead, they saw Malfoy, backed up against one of the kitchen walls, with Ginny holding a poker to his throat. Malfoy was actually _clean_, and this made his injuries stand out even more clearly. He was also, to Ron's fury, wearing a pair of Ron's best jeans, and a green shirt. And he was _grinning._

Malfoy said to Ginny, "I don't believe we've met. I would have remembered such a bewitching lady as yourself. My name's Draco Malfoy, but you can call me Draco." Ron rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Womanizer" at Harry. 

Ginny was not charmed. "What the _hell_ are you doing in my house?" she growled. "I thought I saw you last night. Explain why you're here then get out."

Malfoy… oh, let's call him Draco… 

Draco went, "Um…"

Harry, snapping out of his staring mode, said hastily, "We asked him over to stay with us."

Ginny turned her head as much as she could without budging the poker the merest fraction of an inch. "Of course, Harry, you suddenly realised that Draco Malfoy is your best friend and so you invited him over to Ron's house!" she said brightly, meaning, _Try again._

Ron said, "Gin, put down the poker then I'll explain."

"Why should I?"

"Good point," said Ron fiercely. "Stab Malfoy through the throat with it then let's leave him to bleed to death and we'll go for breakfast, shall we? God knows it's all his fault anyway."

Ginny put down the poker.

There was a tense silence.

It was Harry, in the end, who explained what had happened.

* * * * * * *

Ginny said, "Wow." And then, thoughtfully, "_Wow._"

Hermione smiled benignly, having joined the four of them at the breakfast table. "It is rather hard to believe, isn't it? That we would put our lives on the line to save such a scumbag…"

"Hey," Draco protested, "Watch which scumbags you insult. Some of them might bite."

Harry said, "I think this particular scumbag has had his poison sacs removed permanently."

Draco bared his teeth. "Anyway, I don't bite." He waited a beat, then added, "Hard."

Everyone groaned at this lamest of jokes. While they were still feeling amazed at how natural it seemed to be for Draco Malfoy to be with them, footsteps were heard at the top of the stairs. George's voice floated down. "Morning, folks."

This galvanized the five into action. Ron jumped, saying, "Into the front room!" Harry grabbed an arm and pulled a startled Draco in Ron's wake. Hermione and Ginny tried to look innocent.

George padded lazily down the stairs. "Anyone know what time it is?"

Ginny, glancing at the hourglass on the cabinet, said, "Ten."

George nodded, and went into the kitchen for breakfast, emerging a couple of minutes later with a slice of jellied toast. As he did so, he spotted Harry and Ron coming out of the front room.

"What were you two doing in there?" he asked, puzzled.

"Um…"

"Um…"

"They were… they were… getting something that they left there last night!" Hermione almost shouted.

"That's right," improvised Harry. "Our… magazines."

George raised an eyebrow. "And these magazines are… where?"

Ron screeched, "Ha ha!" causing everyone else to jump.

"Ha ha!" echoed Ginny, pointing. "They've forgotten to bring them out!"

"Ha ha," mumbled Harry and Hermione.

George was going round and putting his hand on people's foreheads. "Are you chaps feeling alright?"

"Fine, fine," insisted Ron, and mouthed to Hermione, "Keep him busy."

* * * * * * *

Thanks to a clever diversion on Hermione's part (she dramatically 'felt faint' in George's arms, then told him that she was rehearsing for a Muggle play in the summer), Ron and Harry smuggled Draco upstairs and into Ron's room.

"Do you realise what you nearly did?" Harry demanded, after sitting Draco down onto Ron's bed. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Draco deadpanned, "You sound like my mother."

"This is no time for jokes, Malfoy. You can't let any, and I mean ANY of the family see you, or they'll garrote you and put the corpse on display."

"What about _her_?" Draco said, meaning Ginny.

Ron said, "If you mean my sister Ginny, she can keep a secret."

Harry said, "Look, Malfoy, I don't want to be bossy, but…"

"I'm a prisoner here," interrupted Draco tiredly. "I know what you're trying to say, okay? Stay in the room, don't breathe unless you tell me to. Potter, I told you you should have killed me while you could. Now I've survived and I'm not going to stay in one room with my hands folded, like a good little boy."

Harry said, "Well, when you put it that way…"

"What you should do is come down for meals at, say, five in the morning, while everyone else is asleep, and others we'll bring up," suggested Ron.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't recall asking for _your_ help, Weasley."

"You're going to get it. Nothing personal, this is just so I can crow over you in the near future. You can't hide forever, you know. Sooner or later you have to go back to school."

"I'll stay here for the summer, if it's okay with Potter."

"But this is my house!" raged Ron.

"Um, please, Weasley. I would really like to stay at your house, if you don't mind. I'd really appreciate it and be in your debt forever." Harry watched Draco's grey eyes widen cajolingly, and thought he'd never heard anything sound less sincere.

"Fine, fine," grumbled Ron.

"Are we agreed or not?" Harry asked. Then, gleefully, "Malfoy, shake hands with Ron."

"What?!"

"Why?!"

"Because," Harry smiled, "That's how you seal a pact."

Draco gritted his teeth but gracefully extended his hand. Ron took it and pumped it up and down, pulling all the while. Draco was yanked off the bed and onto the floor, where he landed in a tangle of legs - he'd knocked Ron over too.

"Oh, boy," Harry rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "This is going to be a _long_ summer."

--End Chapter Four-- 

I realise that I've forgotten to respond to reviewers, so to all those people who reviewed Chapters Three and Four…

Heart of Pop Tart - I don't know what Apocalypse Now is, and I am a she.

vmr - Thank you!

DevilChild - Wait and see. You may like what's coming, oh, about three chapters from now.

JediGinny - If you're giggling, then I did something right. :)

PepperjackCandy - Hey! It's PjC back again! Thanks for your support.

Ruka-Chan - You've just finished reading it.


	7. VI - Warm Beds and Candlelit Meals

August 8th 1995

August 8th 1995

5.45am

Draco grumbled, "This is _inhuman_."

He and Ron were getting dressed in the semi-darkness. A single candle burned in the corner of the room. Harry was still sacked out in bed. Ron was struggling with his shirt, managing to put his head through the sleeve. Draco had donned Ron's outgrown jeans. Even though he was a lot thinner, they were still pretty tight. 

Ron said, "Malfoy, quit complaining. If you don't like the situation, do something instead of whining."

Draco hissed (quietly), "Fine! What I am going to do is get back in bed." He lay down on his spot on the floor, pulled the cloth over his body, then leaped up, exclaiming, "Fuck, it's cold down there."

Before Ron could suggest that he put on a shirt, Draco had taken two steps and slid under the duvet with Harry.

Harry woke up with a shock as Draco's naked back snuggled against his side, and rested there. He sat up. "What the…?"

Draco mumbled, "Don't move, Potter. You're very warm and I'm frozen."

"Urgh!" Harry gasped, edging as far away as possible. "Malfoy, get lost!"

Draco moved closer, towards the middle, and said, "What, like you've never slept with a boy before, Potter."

"Malfoy, I AM NOT GAY!!" Harry yelled… well, not really yelled, since his voice was lowered to a whisper. But you get the idea.

"Yes, and I'm a Mudblood."

Angrily, Harry shoved Draco out of the bed, where he landed on the floor with a muffled, "Oof!" Then, "You bastard!"

Ron growled, "For the record, Malfoy, I'm not gay either."

Eventually Harry was asleep again and Draco and Ron were downstairs, eating. Draco said, "I don't understand why the fuck you can't just tell your parents I'm here and let that be done. Then at least we could get some sleep."

Ron said, "Malfoy, if I told my parents you were here, heads would roll. Mine, yours, or both."

"Tell them why. They'll be glad for information about Lord Fucking Wanker, then they won't be pissed. You know, Death Eater reforming and all that."

"I wouldn't call you reformed, Malfoy."

Ginny, rubbing her eyes, joined them at the table and tried not to stare at Draco's bare chest, face, or legs. _Damn, he's hot_, she thought. _Pity he's an arrogant prick._

Draco said, "I am NOT!"

Ron as staring at Ginny in horror. "I can't believe you just said Malfoy was hot."

Ginny said, "What?"

"I think that was supposed to be a private thought, but for some reason you said it out loud," demurred Draco. "And good morning to you too, Miss Weasley."

Hermione said from behind Ginny's shoulder, "What's going on?"

"Miss Weasley was just commenting on how fabulous I look, Granger. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Someone's ego has bounced back from living in the Forbidden Forest, I see," retaliated Hermione.

Ron interrupted with, "Malfoy was saying that we should tell everyone he's here."

Hermione stared, and said, "Are you mad? I mean, it's your choice if you want to be burnt at the stake, and decapitated, and eviscerated, and hung, drawn, and quartered, and put in the stocks to die a miserable death of dehydration, but…"

Draco, who had lost her halfway but got the gist, said in a small voice, "Does everyone really hate me that much?"

Ginny said, "No, of course not." At the same time, Ron said, "Now there's a question. If it wasn't for Harry's sake, would I take pleasure in beating you to a pulp right now Malfoy?"

Draco had kind of sunk down in his chair, and said, "Oh."

He would have stayed in that mood, subdued and woeful, had Ron not pushed his luck. "Malfoy, everyone despises you. I bet even your two bodyguards bitch about you behind your back."

Draco sat up again, eyes flashing in anger, which concealed how much he cared. He put his hand over his heart in mock despair. "Weasley, you sting me. You really do. I might go kill myself now." Even to his ears, it sounded lame.

Hermione gritted her teeth and grated, "We don't have much time. Malfoy, finish eating and get upstairs. You were fine yesterday, let's see if you can do that until September first."

Draco said forcefully, "I still don't see what the fu- … er, I mean, er, I still don't see why there is a problem." As he said this, he glanced sideways at Ginny, who was pretending not to notice. 

Ron, discreet as usual, said into the astonished silence, "What's the matter, Malfoy, extended your vocabulary beyond cuss words?"

Ah, if looks could kill…

Draco gritted his teeth and retorted, "If I had, I would be one step better than you, Weasley. Truly though, I was brought up to be polite and not to swear in front of ladies." Another glance at Ginny.

Hermione, affronted, stated, "You didn't seem to have any such scruples at the Quidditch World Cup, when your father and his gang were dressing up in their poncy costumes and mucking about."

Draco didn't flush, but his jaw tightened and he grated, "My father's not a…" then, with an expression of surprise, "Oh, fuck, I already said he was, didn't I?" As an afterthought, "Sorry, Weasley."

Ginny said, "Which one?" and "It's quite alright, I hear enough of that from Ron." In the same breath. She looked at Draco coyly before turning back to her buttered toast, a look that the others did not miss.

Hermione said slowly, "Ginny, can I talk to you?" The two of them withdrew upstairs, leaving Ron and Draco alone.

Draco said succintly, "I think she likes me."

"_I_ think she has better taste than that."

"I think _you_ like me."

Ron stood up and said flatly, "For the last time, Malfoy, I'm not gay. Now get upstairs."

Draco remained where he was. "I like how you say my name. _Malfoy_. Very sexy, don't you think?" Before Ron could respond, he stood up and breathed into his ear, "You don't have to be shy. I can tell."

As Ron followed him up the stairs, he said, "That's bullcrap and you know it, Malfoy. But maybe… is it a case of takes one to know one?"

Draco turned, one hand on the door. He smiled maliciously. "Perhaps. You never can tell, with me."

--End Chapter Six--

Thanks to my reviewers! 


	8. VII - Complications

August 12th 1995

August 12th 1995

7am

"Malfoy, hurry up!"

"I'm hurrying!" Draco seethed as he slipped into clean clothes, and fairly ran into the hallway after Harry. The two of them scrambled down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"You're bloody late!" Harry repeated. Draco scowled. "Eat, then go!" Harry said.

Draco grabbed three slices of bread out of the bread bin and sat down next to Harry. "Why don't I just take it upstairs?"

"Because!"  


Draco knew better than to argue. He was halfway through his last slice when Fred sauntered into the room.

Draco dove under the table, and pressed himself against Harry's legs as Fred pulled out a chair and sat down opposite. "Morning, Harry. Early, aren't you?"

Harry mumbled something about being hungry. Fred got up, and somehow managed to kick Draco in the ribs. Draco stifled a yelp, but that wasn't enough.

"What was that?" asked Fred.

"What?" responded Harry, smiling brightly. 

"I kicked something under the table." Fred started bending down to look.

"Oh!" cried Harry, much too loudly. "That was me. Don't bother. It didn't hurt." Thankfully, Fred was satisfied with this. Now the problem was how to get Draco back upstairs.

Harry moved into the kitchen with Fred, pointed out of the window, exclaiming, "Look at that!"

While Fred looked, Draco wriggled out from under the table and pelted up the stairs - to run full tilt into George.

"What the…"

Draco didn't even pause. He bolted into Ron's room and slammed the door. When George knocked, Ron opened it.

"I saw Malfoy!"

"Who?"

"Malfoy!"

Ron laughed, too loudly. "Why would he be here?"

"I don't know! But he's here!"

Ron said, "You really think so? 'Cause I think someone had a little too much to drink last night."

"Are you off your rocker?! He ran straight into your bedroom!"

"If you're so sure, see for yourself," answered Ron, letting the door swing open.

George glanced around the room. No Draco. He checked in and under the bed. No Draco. He looked in, behind and under the cupboard. He even looked in the chest of drawers. No Draco.

When he finally left, disgruntled, Ron went back into the room and locked the door. He turned to the cupboard. "Need help?"

Draco looked down from his place on top of the cupboard. "Yes, please." Before Ron could say anything else, Draco was falling … right onto him! Ron fell under his weight, and lay there with Draco effectively sitting on his lap.

"Thanks for breaking my fall," Draco said, and kissed him on the forehead. Then he stood up and rushed out of the door. Ron stared. As an afterthought, he wiped his forehead with an "Eew."

Draco closed the door to Ginny's room a microsecond before George raced up the stairs, shouting, "I forgot to look on top of the cupboard!"

Ginny squealed as Draco entered to find her clad in only a pair of jeans and a bra. (She'd been picking out a top to wear.) "Looking good, Ginny," he said breathlessly as sat on the end of her bed.

"What are you _doing_?" she shrieked, in her anger forgetting about her state of undress. He shushed her with a finger across her lips.

"Shh!" he said unnecessarily, getting in _very_ close. "Your brother is looking for me!"

"And is that any reason to come barging in here?" she demanded. Then suddenly remembered what she was wearing… or not wearing. "Argh!"

They could hear George pounding about in Ron's room, still seeking Draco. 

"Get out!" Ginny hissed.

Draco smiled condescendingly, and patted her head. "Wait until he's gone."

"Now!"

"Patience, Ginny."

"What happened to 'Weasley'?"

"Well," Draco explained, "There are too many Weasleys. It got confusing. This way, you can be Ginny, and darling Ronald can be the original Weasley."

Ginny whipped a shirt out of the closet and pulled it on. "He's gone! Get out!" she said agitatedly.

Draco paused, listened, then bent his head and kissed her briefly on the lips. "Forgive the cliché, but you're so cute when you're angry," he said. "Come visit me sometime." Then the door swung and he was gone.

She stood in disbelief, and wondered what the world was coming to, if a Weasley could honestly think that a Malfoy was damn fine.

--End Chapter Seven--

Reader responses (I really appreciate your feedback!)

Gwen - *Will* it be slash, do I think? Well, (and here I borrow my own quote) You never can tell, with me. ;) Keep reading!

wolf and princess - That's always an option. Watch this space!

Juliana Black - Very technical question. If you're reading this, it's highlight the text, on the menu click Format, Font, then check Strikethrough. This is in MS Word, by the way.

JediGinny - I definitely agree. But since, they're all 15 or younger, I don't think it would be PC for them to be jumping into bed anytime within the next 2 or 3 years… 

And to all my other reviewers: Elsebeth Fishnips, Jedi Cosmos, Lady Gambalerina, Alynnia*McKinnon, BigMamaG, and j, THANK YOU! I do read your comments and use your ideas (sometimes.) Meanwhile, opinions are always welcome!


	9. VIII - Nearing the End

August 28th 1995

August 28th 1995

Keeping Draco hidden for a month proved to be easier said than done. He had a habit of going to the bathroom at precisely the same time that Fred or George did, which meant that more than once Ron or Harry had to run after him and pull him back. This was made even worse by the fact that Fred and George were trying to catch him. George was convinced that he'd seen Draco Malfoy on the stairs, and would readily hex him if he found him. Thankfully, Draco had long ago stopped complaining, and was quietly going along with all their plans.

Ron, however, was fretting about something different. _Is Malfoy gay?_ He wondered. _Is he gay, or straight, or… scarily… both? Is that even possible?_ Ron had told Harry some of this, but not all. They had conceded to share the bed with Draco - he wasn't that big, and in fact three of them fit quite neatly. But it was rather discomfiting to realise that the guy you were sleeping next to would happily make out with you, your sister, your best friend… or all three. Ron didn't know what to make of it.

Like the other morning, he'd woken up to see Draco very close to Harry, and Harry's arm was around his shoulders. He didn't know if they knew their positions… but he really hoped it was innocent sleep-tossing. 

And also, Draco flirted with everyone except Hermione. He'd wink at Ginny, or kiss her on the cheek in the morning, but he slept so close to Harry that you couldn't have fitted a hair between them.

Thankfully, it was on the 28th that Molly and Arthur Weasley took Fred and George to some sort of three-day camp, leaving Draco, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry with the house to themselves. For the first time in weeks they slept in. Ron and Harry moved to the twins' room and left Draco with the double bed to himself. Hermione and Ginny found that Draco could actually be quite charming when he chose to be. The five of them, tired of the endless bickering, came to accept Draco as a … well, if not a friend, an acquaintance.

One day, after a spirited game of broomstick tag (Harry and Draco were against the other three and completely flattened them) they went, laughing, into the front room, where they seated themselves around the worn coffee table and played Spin the Bottle.

Harry was working out who could kiss who. "Well, I can kiss Ginny or Hermione, Ron can only kiss Hermione…" 

Ginny said, "Aah…"

Harry continued, "Ginny's okay with Draco (they were even calling him by his first name) and me, Hermione's okay with all the boys…"

Draco added, "I'm okay with everyone."

Ron burst out, "What?!"

Hermione screeched, "You've got to be kidding!"

Draco said cooly, "I am."

"Are what?"

"Kidding."  


They played until they were bored, then went upstairs and talked, challenging each other to tell the silliest story. Ginny won, with a tale about Snape on a tropical island, surrounded by women fawning over him. 

The days passed all too quickly, just when they could forget about secrecy. Ron's parents owled instructions for getting themselves to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and wished them a good term.

August 31st 1995

9pm

Draco stood up on the table and said, "This must have been one of the best summers of my life."

Harry said, "What's one of the other best?"

Draco thought about it. "Maybe the one where I stayed at home on my own." Before he could be pelted by flying cushions, he protested, "All right! So this was the best!"

Ron said, "And we found out that Draco Malfoy can actually be bearable if he really, really, tries."

With a wild yell, Draco leaped off the table and pretended to attack Ron. Everyone else laughed.

Draco perched himself on the edge of the table and looked meaningfully at the people seated around him, finally deciding who to speak to. "Can I talk to you in private?" he asked.

*********************

Sera (The Author): 

Here's where something special happens. There are three different endings to this story. You can pick one of them and consider it your special ending, or you can consider them all the endings, and read them in the order that they are written. 

Onwards!


	10. Endgames

Ending 1 - Sweet

Ending 1 - Sweet

Ending 2 - Slash

Ending 3 - None of the above

****

Ending 1 - Sweet

Draco made eye contact, and asked, "Can I talk to you in private?"

Ginny said, "Sure."

They walked together into her bedroom. Draco said, "It's not so much tell as show."

Ginny said, "Go right ahead."

He put his arms around her waist and kissed her. This went on for quite some time. When they broke apart, Ginny could only say, "Holy wow." Then she put her hands on the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers.

Later, downstairs…

Ron: "I'll pretend I can't guess what happened in those last twenty minutes, and nobody say it."

Draco, smirking, said, "Ginny and I made out."

Ron clamped his hands firmly over his ears. "I don't want to know!"

Ginny laughed, and thought privately that it was something that she and Draco were likely to do a lot in the near future.

Like on September the first, in an otherwise empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express...

Like on the second, in an unoccupied classroom…

And like on the third, when they kissed in the Great Hall with half the school watching, and couldn't have cared less.

****

Ending 2 - Slash

Draco made eye contact, and asked, "Can I talk to you in private?"

Harry said, "Not a problem."

They retreated from the stares of their friends into Ron's bedroom and locked the door. Harry leaned against a wall while Draco sat on the end of the bed.

"Yes?" said Harry.

"I just wanted to thank you for saving my life and all that."

"You could have said that in front of everyone else, you know," Harry pointed out.

"Well…" Draco hesitated. "There's something else. Weasley told me that one morning… he woke up, and you had your arm around me."

Harry blushed. "I must have been dreaming."

"What about?"

"What business is it of yours?" Harry demanded.

"I have a right to know if you're dreaming about me," replied Draco, standing up and looking Harry straight in the eye.

Harry looked at his bare feet, and Draco's toes. He slowly raised his gaze before answering, noticing (not for the first time) how the too-small jeans clung tightly to Draco's legs. He saw the lean frame, then met the grey eyes. "It might have been."

"Explain."

"Well, he… the guy in my dream, he looked like you, blond hair and grey eyes and all, but he did … things."

Draco's heart started pounding, but he kept a cool façade. "What… things?"

Harry's eyes gleamed smugly. "Well, for a start, he kissed me."

"Was he a good kisser? Did you like it? Would you do it again?"

"Yes to all three. Sadly," here Harry sighed dramatically, "You would never do that, so I'm out of luck."

Draco whispered something that Harry didn't quite catch.

"What?" he asked, leaning towards Draco.

Draco repeated the statement.

"Say it louder," ordered Harry, going still closer. "I can't hear what you're saying."

Draco tilted his head, which was about an inch from Harry's. "I said, don't be too sure."

And he took Harry's head in his hands and kissed him long and deep.

When he pulled away, his silver eyes were smiling cunningly. "Well? Am I a good kisser? As good as the Draco in your dream?"

Harry waited until his breath came back, and when it did, it came in gasps. "I'm not sure," he chuckled. "Show me again." With that, he pushed Draco backwards onto the bed and lay on top of him while they kissed.

When they finally parted, even Draco was panting. "Well?" he questioned impatiently.

"Yeah," Harry breathed huskily. "Much, much better."

Draco pulled him down and they lost themselves in each other's arms.

****

Ending 3 - None of the above

Draco fixed his eyes on a point somewhere between Harry and Ron, and asked, "Can I talk to you in you in private?" 

Ron said, "Who are you talking to? Me, or Harry?"

"Both. And Hermione." 

Once they were in Ron's bedroom, Draco said, "I want to thank you all for… you know… saving my life and all that."

Ron said, "That's it? I was expecting groveling."

Draco retorted, "I'm not good at thanking people. I never had to before." Then, "I realise how incredibly bratty that sounds, so forget it."

Hermione laughed, "With all that secrecy, I was anticipating you to suggest four-way sex or something."

Harry stared. Ron howled with laughter. "I'll be blowed! Hermione DO have a dirty mind!"

Draco said, "Now that you mention it…" and rubbed his hands together.

Harry stared again, and groaned, "I really, really, hope that was a joke."

"Yes, don't worry," Draco assured him.

Ron said, "Is that all?"

Draco tried to look humble, "I'd really appreciate it if this matter stayed between us four, well five counting Ginny. Only us."

"Easy," said Hermione.

"Sure," agreed Harry.

Ron whined, "But this is hot news! Think about it on the front page of the Daily Prophet! 'Lucius Malfoy Out To Kill Malfoy Junior!' Ouch!" as Hermione stomped on his foot.

Draco pouted seductively, and moved forward to rub his hand against Ron's chest. "Please, Weasley…"

Ron leaped backwards. "If you stop that right now, you have my solemn word."

Draco put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Stopped. No big loss. I'd rather do that to your sister… Kidding! Ow! Get off!" Ron had grabbed a pillow off the bed and was pummeling Draco with it. Draco grabbed the remaining pillow and lashed back. 

After the pillow fight (Harry and Hermione had joined in with glee) they stood, brushing off the feathers from one exploded pillow.

"We can never openly be friends, you know," Draco said into the silence.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"It's obvious," put in Ron. He pointed at Draco. "Slytherin." He pointed at himself, Harry, and Hermione. "Gryffindor. Go figure."

Draco smirked, "Yes, and you've forgotten: you; Weasley, poor, crude, ugly, stupid. And I; Malfoy, rich, sophisticated, gorgeous, and second in the year, to Madam Granger, of course."

Harry said, "Geez, you're going back to your arrogant self already."

Draco smiled mirthlessly. "Never expect anything less from me."

"But we're all _friends_! And you were _nice_! Why can't it stay that way?!" wailed Hermione.

Draco shrugged. "Because. It can never be. The sun will rise. The tides will flow. Draco Malfoy will be alone. That's how it's written."

"No," Hermione said flatly, refusing to accept it.

"You've changed," insisted Harry.

"Yeah?" challenged Draco. "How do you know I haven't been sending messages to Voldemort all summer, and that right now he's coming to kill you all?"

"Because," said Harry.

Draco considered this. "Hmph. I can't say much, seeing as you're right." But anyway, just live with it, alright? You guys did fine without me before. Continue."

"Are you always going to be this annoying?"

Draco nodded sagely, and drawled, "Until Hell freezes over."

Harry said, "Remember this summer. It was your best summer ever, you said. Remember it, and remember us."

He expected a sarcastic reply, but Draco nodded again, and repeated sincerely, "Until Hell freezes over."

--End--

Thank you for reading the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review on your way out, and tell me which ending you preferred! Keep rocking --Sera


	11. In Continuation Part 1

In Continuation Part 1

A/N: Did I say the end? I meant the end. But that was before BlueFairy did the puppy dog eyes and asked for a sequel. Well, BlueFairy wasn't the only one… so… sequel. It uses the third ending (most popular) but that's not to say that the other two might not happen… ;)

****

In Continuation Part 1

"You have _got_ to be kidding!" screeched Hermione. Hedwig hooted loudly, as if in agreement.

The trio were on the Hogwarts Express, bound for their fifth year of school. 

"You have got to be kidding," Hermione repeated, but more weakly.

"For true!" Ron protested. "I swear, Malfoy must be bi!"

"That's just _wrong_," Harry said. "I mean, gay I could deal with. Bi is just sick."

Hermione said, "But he slept in the same bed as you guys!"

Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. Both of them made convulsive shudders.

Ron explained, "I mean, he kissed me, which was weird enough, but then he checks Ginny out when she's in her bra!" the door banged open, but Ron was too wound up to notice. "What the hell does that say about Draco's sexuality?!"

"It says," drawled a cold voice, "That he's such a stud all the boys and girls fight over him equally."

They turned to see Draco Malfoy standing in the door, with his two goons just behind him. He smiled without humor, and added, "I'm glad to see we're on first name terms, Weasley. Been having too many fantasies about me lately?"

"Kiss my ass, _Malfoy_," Ron growled. 

"As much as I'm sure you'd love me to, Weasley, I don't particularly feel like it right now."

Harry bellowed, "Get out!"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Now, now, shouting at me isn't going to get you anywhere."

Hermione spoke up. "Dr… Malfoy. Please, just leave." Ron nodded in agreement, tacking, "You bastard," onto the end of the sentence.

Draco smirked, "Don't hate me 'cause I'm gorgeous, Weasley," and swept away with his two cronies in tow.

Hermione regarded the other two in astonishment. "Is that the same Draco Malfoy who stayed at the Burrow for the whole summer?"

"'Fraid so," replied Harry.

Ron, meanwhile, was fuming. "For God's sake," he grumbled darkly, "When will that sod realise that I am not gay? He can flaunt himself all he likes, but…" Harry tuned him out after a while.

"He was so nice," Hermione stated morosely.

"It makes me wonder which is the real him, though," Harry said.

Hermione pointed out, "We're nearly at school."

Later, as they walked up the stone steps that led to the castle, Harry caught sight of Draco. His silver hair shone in the faded light. As if feeling Harry's gaze, he turned his head, made eye contact, and winked.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed to himself in surprise. Then, "Oh, but Malfoy is _infuriating_."

To be continued…

Sorry for the short chapter. Writer's block strikes again. 


	12. In Continuation Part 2

****

In Continuation Part 2 - At Potions and Quidditch

Draco was even more infuriating in corridors between classes. He'd wink and smile at Harry when no-one else was looking. He'd flirt. But only with Harry.

Three weeks into the term, late for Transfiguration, Harry felt a light stroke on his rear. He'd swung around to see Draco just behind him in the otherwise deserted corridor. 

"Did you just touch my ass, Malfoy?" he demanded.

Draco looked back from lidded eyes. "I don't know," he said coyly. "Maybe I did."

Harry stomped off with a parting, "When you make up your mind whether you did or not, page me. I'll break your nose." But he couldn't help remembering how good Draco had looked back at the Burrow, in those tight jeans.

* * * * * * *

"Why are you staring at me?" Harry hissed in a low half-whisper across the room.

"Am I?" Draco drawled in reply.

"Yes!" Harry scowled, conscious of the people between them trying to listen in. "You're staring straight at my head!"

"How strange. I thought I was staring into empty space. But then, empty space, your head, where's the difference?"

A lot of the Slytherins laughed loudly at this. Snape said, without turning around from the notes he was writing on the board, "That will be five points from Gryffindor, Potter. Any more talking and it will be twenty and a detention."

Harry flashed a, "Now look what you've done" look at Draco, who unexpectedly cringed at the daggers shooting from Harry's eyes, slouched lower in his seat, and tried to look sorry.

When the bell rang, Draco brushed past Harry and dropped a crumpled note into his bag. Harry retrieved it, smoothed it out and read:

Harry,

I'm sorry I said that. It just came out of my mouth, honest. I'm still grateful for what you've done for me. I'd like to make it up to you sometime.

-D

Harry, still fuming, thought privately that Draco had decidedly effeminate handwriting. He told Ron, "Snape and Malfoy can go to Hell together."

He kept the note, though.

* * * * * * *

Quidditch practice, just after half term.

5.30pm

Harry yelled, "We booked the pitch, Malfoy! You can't pull that again!"

Draco looked rebellious. "I'm not pulling anything, Potter. I booked it with Madame Hooch, even. And you're saying you did?"

"Bullshit!" Harry roared.

"Yes, that's what I said about your bogus claim that you booked the pitch first…"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" pitched in Ron, a Chaser on the team. "You're the phony, everyone knows it!"

Draco made no reply except to mount his broom and kick off, signaling to the rest of his team. The captain made a noise of protest ("But I'm supposed to be in charge!") but sighed and followed Draco's lead.

Ron bellowed, "I'll knock him off his broom, the wanker!" Before Harry could stop him, he'd taken off. Cursing, Harry tailed him. A tense aerial dogfight between Ron and Draco followed, with Harry trying to knock them apart. Finally he placed himself firmly between them and hollered, "Stop this! You're acting like five-year-olds!"

Ron ignored him completely and zipped past, slamming his elbow into the region of Draco's neck with as much force as he was capable of. Draco's head snapped back, he toppled backwards off his Nimbus Two Thousand and One, and plummeted for the ground forty metres below.

Harry yelled, "No!"

As he dived, he felt his stomach give a little flip. He'd never left his stomach behind in a dive before, so why now? He saw Draco shake his head, realise he was twenty five metres above the ground and descending rapidly, and start to panic. Harry was now closing fast on Draco, but he was falling too fast!

Harry snagged the back of Draco's robes just as the other boy crumpled upon impact with the ground and lay motionless. Harry's heart stopped its relentless hammering. He reached out tentatively and touched the green-robed shoulder. "Malfoy?"

Draco moved his head, causing Harry's heart to leap into his throat and restart double time. "Ouch, Potter."

"You're okay!"

Ron, who had landed, commented, "Don't sound so relieved, Harry. It's only Malfoy."

Harry swiveled round like a Dalek (I don't know where I got that quote from, nor do I know what a Dalek is. Must be something that swivels round very very very fast.) and let loose. "Ron, are you INSANE?! This is MALFOY we're talking about! The smallest SCRATCH and he'd complain to his FATHER and get us EXPELLED! And what if he DIED?! We'd wind up in AZKABAN for life! Did you think of that BEFORE you elbowed him in the face, HUH?!"

As Harry was bellowing, he felt a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. Was that really the reason for his concern over Draco? A small groan from Draco brought him back down to earth.

"Ouch," Draco repeated, making a small effort to sit up. Harry was there instantly, putting an arm around his shoulders and assisting him. "It's okay, Malfoy," he crooned. "You're okay. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey."

Ron said blankly, "What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry glared at the blue eyes beneath the tousled red hair. "I, Ron Weasley, am taking Malfoy to the hospital wing, because he was knocked off his broom by _someone_, and I'm also ensuring that we're not expelled or suspended or taken to court for attempted murder."

"Attempted murder…" Ron spluttered. Harry walked off with Draco still partially draped around his shoulders, earning a few sympathetic looks from the Gryffindors and malevolent stares from the Slytherins.

Once they were round the corner and out of sight, Harry sat Draco down on the pathway. "Malfoy?"

"What going on is the fuck, Potter?"

"Sorry?" Harry said, shaking his head to clear the ringing.

Draco said, with more clarity, "What the fuck is going on, Potter. My grammar's gone to hell in all the concussion."

Harry said, "We're going to Madam Pomfrey."

"Why? And what the fuck was all that shit about me telling my father? You know how much he loves me right now."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want anyone to think that I was worried you were hurt."

"Meaning that you are worried?"

"Yes…" Harry got to his feet and held out a hand. Draco took it, but instead of pulling himself up, he tugged Harry down. Harry landed in a sitting position on top of Draco's ankles. "Sorry," Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. He shifted his position to wriggle out from under Harry, and as he did so he leaned forward, putting his head less than six inches from Harry's. 

"I'm okay, no need to go to Madam Pomfrey," he declared, then slowly and purposefully licked his lips.

"What are you two _doing_?!" Ron said in utter incredulity, looming over them.

Harry shot to his feet so quickly that the top of his head cracked Ron on the chin. Both of them overbalanced. Draco eyed them with mock sadness, announced, "Well, fun as it has been rolling about on the ground, I have to get back to my team." He said to Harry, "I'll talk to you later," nodded at Ron, and left, whistling.

Ron got to his feet, brushed himself down, saying, "That about was all what?"

"What was that all about?"

"Yeah," Ron said impatiently. "What's the deal with Malfoy?"

Harry glanced after the wiry figure, his white-blond hair in disarray around his head, glinting in the dimming light. As he watched, Draco raised a slender hand and raked his hair back into position.

"Spill, Harry," Ron demanded.

Harry turned back to him. "I don't really know," he said.

*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*

Thanks to all my readers! I don't know if it's just me or is everyone having problems with ff.net? 


	13. In Continuation Part 3

****

In Continuation Part 3 - From Here On In

"Are you alright, Draco?" Goyle queried, staring from under dark eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Draco countered.

"Well," Goyle continued slowly, "We heard you'd been knocked off your broom by Weasley, and that you fell," his eyes widened, "A hundred metres and landed on the ground."

"No shit, moron, I landed on the ceiling," snapped Draco, irritated.

"There's a ceiling on the Quidditch pitch?" Crabbe asked, looking amazed.

Draco stifled a growl and stomped off towards the dorms. He was stopped by Crabbe adding, "Shall we beat Weasley up?"

"No!" Draco shouted, over his shoulder. "Don't touch him!" _If my goons harmed Weasley, Harry would never forgive me._

* * * * * * *

Hermione sat next to Harry on a couch in a corner of the common room. "Harry, what's happening between you and Malfoy?"

Harry said, without looking at her, "I thought you liked him."

"I do. But… you really _like_ him."

Harry looked in bewilderment. "Like as in like how?"

"Like, like, oh… like want him in bed sort of like."

"I'll thank you to remember I've had him in bed." A pause. "And don't spread that around. People will misunderstand."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "So, there's nothing with you and Malfoy?"

"Nothing," Harry agreed flatly, wondering if Hermione had been put up to the question by Ron. A week after Draco had been knocked off his broom, and still his two best friends were creeping around as if they expected any moment to find him and Draco getting it on in a broom closet.

Ron came down and challenged Harry to Exploding Snap. (Harry won) He retired to bed, and fell asleep.

* * * * * * *

__

"Harry," Draco said.

Harry looked up from the books he was poring over in the library. For some reason it was deserted. Even Madam Pince had abandoned her post.

"What do you want, Malfoy? If I give it to you, will you go away?" Harry asked tiredly, rubbing his aching forehead.

Draco's eyes gleamed. "Well, for a start you can call me by my first name."

Harry looked around automatically. Draco smiled, cunningly. "There's no one here, Harry. No-one except the two of us."

"All right… Draco. What do you want?"

Draco moved so he was behind Harry, placing his hands on Harry's temples and massaging gently. "Push the seat back a little, Harry."

Without knowing why he was doing so, Harry obeyed.

"Perfect," Draco gave a wry chuckle and lowered himself onto Harry's lap. "Now kiss me."

Harry blindly reached for the silver-haired boy, pulled their faces together…

Harry jerked awake at the sound of his name. Ron stood over him, blurred because he wasn't wearing his glasses. "Get up, we've lessons," Ron wheedled.

Harry sighed, put his glasses on, and slouched towards the bathroom.

* * * * * * *

Sometime in the following week

"Potter, why are you staring at me?"

"Am I?"

Snape, in a fit of vindictiveness, had rearranged everyone's seating. Harry, Ron and Hermione were as far away from each other as was possible in the cramped dungeons, but Harry has mysteriously ended up two seats away from Draco.

"No, I said that for no reason at all because I enjoy talking to you so much," Draco snapped, lacing his words with sarcasm.

"I'm touched, but I don't…" Harry was cut off by Snape. "That will be ten points from Gryffindor, Potter."

Harry bared his teeth at Draco, who mouthed, "Not my fault you were so loud." Harry stuck his middle finger up at him.

Snape commented smoothly, "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and after class you can stay back and wash cauldrons."

Harry bit his tongue in fury. He wrote, "I am going to kill you, Malfoy" on the corner of the page of his Potions textbook, tore it out, and hurled it ferociously across the aisle.

"Another twenty points. There will be no passing of notes in my class."

Harry exploded. He stood up, slammed his bag onto the table and shouted, "I've had it! You, you, unfair, biased, you piece of…"

Draco stood up, took four quick steps to Harry's side and clamped his hand over his mouth. "You're going to get yourself expelled, Harry," he hissed into Harry's ear. "Think about it."

Harry shook him off angrily and glared at Snape, who was looking so venomous that I really have to say: Ah, if looks could kill…

Snape merely said, "Class dismissed. Potter, you stay behind."

There was an immediate scuffle as people crammed books into bags and headed for the door. Draco cast Harry a sympathetic look and left. Snape turned to Harry. "Potter…"

* * * * * * *

Draco stood in the corridor, uncertain, waiting for the last of the class to filter away into other parts of the castle. Crabbe and Goyle waited obediently. "Go," he commanded, flicking his hands for emphasis. "I need to talk to Professor Snape."

They looked at each other, shrugged, and lumbered off down the dark corridor. Draco gave them thirty seconds, then opened the door and passed back into the classroom.

* * * * * * *

Snape was bellowing, "You piece of shit, you have no respect for me or the class I teach! You delight in causing mayhem and distraction! Well, no more! For now, I am forbidding you to ever set foot in this classroom again, and tomorrow we go to see the Headmaster! If you were in my house I'd make sure…" Then, noticing his favoured pupil, changed his tone abruptly and said, "Yes, Malfoy, what do you want?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Sir I wanted to say it's not all Potter's fault because I was talking to him first and I insulted him so naturally he was angry and had to retaliate." He said all of this very fast, going pale as he did.

Snape rounded on him. "And what do you mean by _that_?"

Draco said defiantly, gathering his courage, "Well, I said he was a bastard orphan, and that he was a piece of scum. And he…"

"I know what he did, Master Malfoy, and that does not excuse him in the least."

"But sir…"

"You may leave, Malfoy."

"But…"

"Leave!"

Draco stood his ground. "Sir, with all due respect, you are being unfair. If you'd open your eyes, you'd see offenses are not one-sided as you'd prefer them to be."

Snape looked apopolectic. "And is that your opinion, Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"So you agree with Potter that I am a biased, slimy scum whose hair looks like it hasn't been washed in centuries?"

__

Too far to back out now… "Yes."

"Well." This came out in a hiss. "We will discuss this matter further at another time. Both of you may go."

* * * * * * *

"Malfoy, do you realise what you've just done?" They were walking away from the Potions dungeon, still within the corridor but feeling better the further they went.

"No. I'm still in shock. I can't believe I said all that." A pause. "And I call you Harry, why don't you call me Draco?"

Harry didn't reply to that (remembering his dream) but instead stated, "We are so screwed."

"Why?"

"Because Snape's going to Dumbledore, and try his damnedest to expel us. You heard him, 'If you were in my house…', he's tried before, and never managed to."

Draco stopped in his tracks. "Fuck!" he exclaimed, and carried on muttering it like a mantra.

"What?" asked Harry. He looked at the silver-haired boy, who was trembling. "Draco, are you all right?"

"No!" Draco almost screamed. "I'm in Slytherin, remember? Snape can expel me! And if I get kicked out of Hogwarts, I'll have nowhere to go, sure as hell I can't go home, and anywhere else Lord Fucking Voldemort will find me, and he'll kill me, or worse, and, and, he'll kill my mother, and everyone I care about, like you guys, and, and…" he broke down, shaking visibly now.

"Whoa," Harry said, also worried but trying to be soothing. "Calm down. Nothing like that's going to happen."

"Says you!"

"Chill, Mal… Draco. And listen, thanks for stopping me from saying anything in class earlier."

"Welcome." Draco said miserably, and sat down in the middle of the corridor, resting his head on his knees. "I can't believe this is happening to me. I'm going to get kicked out of school because I helped _you_."

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Draco." Said Harry reproachingly. He knelt down beside the slight, pale boy, who took no notice. "You did a brave thing," Harry added. "I admire you for that."

Draco said, "Tit for fucking tat. I wish you'd never helped me, Harry. I wish I'd died this summer."

"Don't say that!" Harry's defense was instinctive.

Draco was rocking backwards and forwards, chanting, "Oh shit. Shit. I am screwed!"

__

Right. Drastic measures calls for drastic times, Harry thought. Wait… wasn't it the other way around? Oh, who cares. Here goes. He shuffled forward on his knees, saying, "Actually, I don't believe that's true."

"What?" Draco moaned, lifting his head and squinting sideways at Harry in the half-light.

"I don't think you've been screwed."

It took Draco a half-second to comprehend this. "Harry, you perverted person, you know what I meant," he said, but he was half-laughing and traces of his old self were coming back.

"Well, now we're on the topic, have you ever kissed a girl?" Harry prodded, leaning sideways and tucking his knees under him. This brought him closer to Draco, who drew back slightly.

"Yeah, couple," he said uncertainly. "You know, my father takes, I mean, took, me to parties and such, and all his friends' children who were my age seemed to be girls."

Silence as Harry digested this new and unwelcome information.

"You?"

"Yeah," replied Harry, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. "Once, with Cho Chang, at the beginning of this year. She just dragged me into a classroom and started swallowing my face."

"And?" Draco grinned mischievously. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Too bad," said Draco, sounding genuinely disappointed on Harry's behalf, but smiling a little.

"I didn't like it."

Draco stopped smiling, which Harry thought was a pity, because he looked so young and cute when he smiled. _I could just eat him up_, Harry thought. _He looks so delicious_. He cut off the thought abruptly, realising what kind of mental images he was conjuring up.

"Why not?" teased Draco, gently. "Too fiery for you?"

Harry thought dreamily, _His voice is so smooth, like velvet. How come I never noticed any of these things before? Why does it take a dim corridor, aloneness, and some sort of crisis? Or maybe it was this summer when it started. Well, probably._

"Helloooo… anyone home? I asked you a question."

__

He's so pale, yet his lips are so… Harry stopped that thought before it began. _What's wrong with me? I can't find _Malfoy_ attractive! Draco. Draco. His name is Draco._

"Are you alive?" Draco was craning his neck, trying to see if Harry's eyes were open. His hair fell forward over his eyes.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped back into focus. "Draco."

Draco sat up, relieved. "Fuck, I was beginning to think you'd gone into a coma or something." He sounded mildly annoyed. "Have you been listening to a word I'm saying?" 

Harry paid no attention. He leaned forwards, placed one hand behind Draco's ear and the other on the back of Draco's neck, and put his lips on Draco's.

Draco tensed. He moaned deep in his throat and put both hands firmly on Harry's chest, who responded by kissing him harder. Harry received a sudden shock when Draco shoved him rudely away.

They sat back from each other, breathing hard. Draco demanded, "What the fuck are you doing, Harry?"

Harry, irritated by the rejection, said, "What did it look like?"

"Not what it fucking _looked like_, what it fucking _was._ I thought you weren't gay, Harry."

Harry licked his lips. "Now, did I ever actually _say _that?"

"Several times," Draco snapped.

"Maybe I changed my mind."

Draco seemed to think about this, then, "Why me?" he said plaintively.

"Why not you?"

"You don't even _like_ me!" Draco whined.

"You're my friend," Harry explained gently, leaning forward and patting Draco gently on the hand. "What you did for me just now, it touched my heart. I know that sounds sappy. It did, really."

Draco jerked away as if Harry had burnt him. "But… no!" as Harry moved forward, be backed against the wall and wagged a finger like a kindergarten teacher admonishing a toddler. "No! Even if I am your friend, which I said I couldn't be, it's not right, you don't go around Frenching your friends, even if, _especially_ if they're male!" His voice rose higher as he babbled.

"But you're always flirting, and I thought you were, you know…"

"I can't be gay!" Draco wailed, heading for general incoherence. "It's wrong, and unnatural, and my father said that if he ever caught me with a guy he would flay me to within an inch of my life and it's not right and _this can't be happening to me_!" The last came out as a shriek. Harry started forward and locked a hand over Draco's mouth, a mirror image of the scene in Potions.

"Shut up! Snape's just down the corridor!"

Draco shut up, but in the fresh silence the ominous sounds of the door opening and footsteps coming their way were even louder.

Without pausing to consider, Draco and Harry scrambled to their feet and bolted the remaining length down the aisle. The turned up the stairs and pelted in the general direction of the towers.

When they finally collapsed outside a portrait, it demanded the password crossly, in a deep male voice. Harry looked up. A haughty Duke, with neatly trimmed beard, dressed in full regalia, peered back. "Who are you?" he bellowed. "I haven't seen either of you before."

"Um," replied Harry. "We're, um, lost."

Draco was getting slowly to his feet. "Where are we?"

"Ravenclaw territory," boomed the portrait. "Give the password or beat it."

"We'll leave," said Draco smoothly. "Harry?"

The two boys, both a youthful fifteen years old, walked in silent accord back the way they came, with the eyes of the Ravenclaw Duke watching them wistfully.

==================================

Reader responses:

S. Maldiva --- Well, you're right. I'm working on it, but I'm also trying not to bring in yet another crisis too soon.

Ambrosius --- You got your wish!

Berkeley Halperin --- Thanks. I was wondering…

rachel --- Yes it was. I left out the disclaimer, didn't I. Well, [Disclaimer: Draco's empty space quote comes from Animorphs] maybe Draco reads Animorphs too! And since you're an Animorph fan, I have another fic called Year of the Nothlit. *g* shameless advertising.

Laura --- One word: Thanks.


	14. In Continuation Part 4

****

In Continuation Part 4 - 

Confused Minds and Walks By The Lake

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"It's alright. I know you won't do it again, will you?" Draco said, a pleading note creeping into his voice.

"No promises," said Harry.

"Oh, come on…"

"No. Because I like you. In a gay way. Nothing wrong with that."

"There's plenty wrong with that," shot back Draco. "Why are you Mister I'm-definitely-gay all of a sudden?"

"It must have been the corridor. I started thinking how sexy you were, and then I couldn't stop. It was like, _I want him in bed_."

"You've _had_ me in bed," Draco replied sulkily. "And you shoved me out."

"If that happens again, I'll let you stay."

"It won't."

"What?"

"Won't happen again." Draco trailed his hand along the corridor wall. "May I ask where we're going?"

Harry said, "Gryffindor Tower."

"I can't very well go there, can I?"

"Well, no…"

"So," Draco said briskly, "I'm going to my dormitory. Bye, Harry!"

He waved cheerfully, as if nothing had happened between them in the dim Potions corridor, and raced off before Harry could stop him.

"Damn," muttered Harry, stubbing his toe on the first step, "I really thought I had him that time."

* * * * * * *

Harry climbed through the portrait hole and was greeted by Ron and Hermione rushing up to him. "Harry!" Hermione shrieked, enveloping him in a tight hug. "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" said Harry, trying to sound unconcerned.

"You know," Ron said, then lowered his voice to a whisper, "What did Snape do?"

"He's chucked me out of Potions, and tomorrow he's going to complain to Dumbledore."

"Harry!"

"I'm not kidding."

Hermione protested, "Don't you _care_?"

"I have better things to worry about," replied Harry cooly.

"That's a pretty big thing, if you ask me," stated Ron, chewing his lower lip. "What about your O.W.L.s?"

"So I'm not going to fail Potions," said Harry, shrugging. "Sounds like a good thing to me."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "Harry…"

"What?" asked Harry irritably.

"Is something wrong with you? Are you, like, on drugs?" Hermione's words came out in a rush. "Because you've been awful strange and dreamy lately, and we're worried. You can tell us, we're your friends."

"No," laughed Harry. "Don't worry, I would never do anything as stupid as that."

Both Ron and Hermione relaxed visibly. Then Ron said, "Is it Malfoy?"

Harry twitched. He'd been avoiding the subject, as he was too embarrassed about the incident in the corridor - although no one knew about it. Hermione saw the movement and jumped in on it.

"It's Malfoy! Tell us what he did to you, Harry, we'll kick his scrawny ass from here to Hogsmeade…"

"No," protested Harry, shaking his head vigorously. "He helped me, actually. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it."

Ron said, "Sure. We understand. And if you ever need to talk, we're right here!" He pulled a comical face. "What say you we go for a walk by the lake? The afternoon's still young."

They went.

* * * * * * *

Draco rested his head on the cool grass by the lakeside. Since it was autumn, even at 5 o' clock the sun was only at half brightness. He was tucked away under a low-branched tree, alone and sheltered. He was trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts, and wasn't making much progress.

__

Am I gay? He wondered. _I flirt, sure. I didn't know anybody took me seriously. It's harmless fun, that's all. Only perhaps now not quite so harmless. Geez, I think I turned Harry Potter gay. That has to be a crime or something. The Boy Who Lived! Gay! _He swallowed back a gulp of helpless laughter. _And I turned him gay and I left him!_

How does he feel? I hope he's not mad at me. He should understand. I'm so confused…!

He stopped as he heard footsteps, and Harry's voice floated into his range of hearing.

"I don't know what to think," he was saying.

Draco lay still and held his breath.

Hermione replied, "Look at it a different way. The war was good because it united the people for the first time in centuries, and after they won they stayed united. There were no more civil disputes, and the new nation prospered. Not every aspect of war is negative, Harry."

Harry said grudgingly, "I suppose…" he suddenly laughed. "You must be the only person who manages to stay awake in Binns's class!"

Draco slowly released his breath. They weren't talking about him after all. He gave himself a mental kick in the behind. _You're not the centre of everyone's universe, cretin._

Ron said, ponderingly, "Harry, you said Malfoy helped you. In what way?"

__

Weasley can't stop talking about me. It seems like his_ mind is fixated on yours truly…_ thought Draco triumphantly.

"I don't really want to talk about it," stated Harry flatly.

"Go on…" wheedled Ron.

"If you really have to know," Harry was beginning to sound irritated, "Snape was chewing me out, and he came in to say something to Snape, which had nothing to do with me, but it distracted Snape, what with being his pet and all. Then Snape told me to leave, which saved me from the big lecture. That's all."

"Oh," said a disappointed Ron.

The group moved off. Draco crawled out from under the tree, trying to figure out why Harry should lie to his friends. He hadn't expected him to tell them about the kiss, but the rest seemed tellable stuff…

Just as he was brushing himself down, he heard a mild oath from Harry. "I must have dropped my wand, guys," he was saying. "You go back, okay? I'll meet you for dinner."

Draco froze, deer in headlights. He stared stupidly at Harry's wand, resting on the grass half a foot from where he was very obviously standing. And Harry pushed a branch aside, and saw him.

"Draco."

"Harry," Draco countered, managing to calm his voice.

Harry exploded. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growled, catching Draco by the wrists and pinning him to a tree. "Were you spying on us? Were you?"

Draco flinched. "No," he drawled quietly. "I was here first, actually."

"Why not come and say hi, then?" Harry shouted in his face, beyond reasoning.

"What was I supposed to do?" Draco yelled back, losing his temper. "Say hi? What would you all have thought? You wouldn't exactly have received me with open arms, I can tell you that much."

Harry subsided. "What were you doing, then?"

"Thinking," replied Draco. "I found a nice little hidden place."

"Show me," Harry commanded.

Draco dropped to his knees and pulled back the overhanging branch. Harry crawled in, and motioned for Draco to follow him. Draco hesitated.

"It's only really big enough for one person…"

"Excuses," said Harry.

Draco rolled in, albeit reluctantly, so he was lying next to Harry. 

"What's your favourite colour, Draco?" Harry asked, trying to make conversation.

"Green," Draco answered without thinking.

"Oh?"

"Yours?"

"My eyes are green," Harry mused, ignoring the question.

"Don't think I don't know that," Draco warned.

Harry said, "Maybe my favourite colour is silver," and reached out to touch the other boy's hair.

Draco recoiled instinctively. "Harry, don't," he pleaded.

"Don't what? Pretend I don't want you?"

"I can't," Draco asserted, inching out of the shelter. "I'm so confused. Maybe you've got it made, but I haven't."

"Talk to me, I'll help you sort it out."

Draco shook his head vehemently. "I don't know, Harry… I don't know if I'm gay, I don't know if I like you more than a friend, I can't be what I'm not!"

Harry sat up as much as he could. "Don't you want to try?"

"I can't," Draco repeated, and fled.

Harry sighed, and crawled out of the hollow. "Every time I get close to him, he runs away," he said to himself, in frustration.

"Maybe you're coming on to him too strongly," said Ron.

==============================================

This will be the last chapter before I go on holiday (yes, again!)

My reviews seem to have mucked up, so if I responded twice, or excluded you, sorry.

c --- Yes.

Superbra --- That was an alternate ending. I chose to continue the story using the most popular ending, the third one. So nothing actually happened between Draco and Ginny. But she does think he's hot…

Ambrosius --- *g* No problem. Engraved? I was thinking indelible ink…

sugarhi-san --- Yes, there is more. After the holiday.

And thanks to my reviewers (sorry if I haven't got you all down!)

Sailor_Chibi, SoulSister, tali, Gwen, Erin_baka, Brittanie, Jessy, Pastles, Lorien, Gilligan, Princess of Mirrors, Dreamer, and Whispers in the Soup.


	15. In Continuation Part 5

****

In Continuation Part 5 - Out of the Closet…

__

… Harry sighed, and crawled out of the hollow. "Every time I get close to him, he runs away," he said to himself, in frustration.

"Maybe you're coming on to him too strongly," said Ron.

Harry didn't shriek, but he made a noise that, with a little imagination and some poetic license, could very well be described as one.

"Ron!" he managed.

"Nuh," said Ron, "I'm Lucius Malfoy."

"Ron!"

"Yes, Harry, it's me," Ron said patiently.

"What…?"

"Really going for the monosyllables now, aren't we," Ron continued, pleasantly. "Now, are you coming to dinner?"

"But…"

"It'll be dark soon."

Harry tossed his bangs out of his eyes. "Aren't you going to… have a reaction?"

"Nope," Ron continued cooly, "I'm still in the shock of you being gay. When my brain sorts it out, no worries, I'll have a few hysterics. Then I'll try to persuade you out of it, because when it's with Malfoy, it's a bad thing."

"But…"

"Come on, let's just leave."

Harry, still dumbfounded, turned and followed Ron up to the school.

* * * * * * * * 

In their dormitory, Ron mused, "How… er… _close_ did you get to Malfoy anyway, Harry?"

As promised, the rant had taken place after dinner. Harry has endured Ron's blather, until a gloomy silence had settled. Well, Seamus coming halfway might have had something to do with Ron shutting up abruptly. When Seamus had left for the common room, Ron had restarted on a different vein.

Harry replied, "Not as close as I'd have liked," spitefully, and was pleased to see Ron wince. The distant part of his mind was sorry, but first and foremost he was anxious to know what Draco would have thought, seeing Ron there. Of course they'd seen each other…

Ron said, "Harry, you owe me this."

"Owe you what?"

"I was the one who figured it out first. I woke up one morning, and you had your arm all wrapped around dear Draco."

"You didn't tell me!"

"I thought… you know, I thought it was just a chance thing."

"When was this, Ron?"

Ron wasn't sure.

"But why didn't you tell me?" It came out as a kind of pleading wail.

Ron didn't know.

"Well, then don't bug me! You're not the only one keeping secrets, it seems!"

Ron shut up and lay back on the bed.

After a short silence, Harry muttered, "Sorry, Ron. I shouldn't have said that."

"Said what?"

"You know, all that. About keeping secrets. I mean, if you had told me, I'd probably have taken your head off."

Ron grinned a little. "Yeah. I mean, _Malfoy_!"

"He's not all that bad, Ron."

"You still haven't told me what he's done to merit a 'not all that bad.'"

"Maybe another time. When Hermione's around. I don't want to have to tell this twice."

"Hermione!"

"Well, why not!"

Ron scowled deeply. "This is unfair, Harry. You don't tell either of us, and when I find out, you insist on telling Hermione too?!"

"Again, I say, why not?"

"Because I found out!"

"Yeah, and you'd tell Hermione at the next chance, even if it meant dragging her away to a secluded place. I might save you the trouble."

"I suppose," Ron admitted.

* * * * * * * * 

By the lake.

Harry sat looking out over the waters. "Where to start…" he mused.

"At the beginning," Hermione and Ron chorused in unison.

"Okay…"

He told them his tale, but at the part about him and Draco shouting at Snape, Ron interrupted.

"Harry… he'll have gone to Dumbledore by now."

"Yeah, I'm expecting a summons to the office at any minute now. Hopefully they'll see my point and let me off with, oh, five hundred points from Gryffindor. Guaranteed to make me the most popular boy in the school."

"He may have forgotten some of the… er… profanity," said Hermione, grimacing.

Harry, "Dear God, I hope so. But I think he probably taped it or something. You know, with a microphone. Evidence against the treacherous Potter." He grinned lopsidedly.

"How many times do I have to tell you, electronics don't work around Howgarts?" snapped Hermione, looking exasperated at Harry's idiocy.

"He's got the right idea," protested Ron. "I mean, maybe Snape had an automatically writing quill, or something, that recorded everything that was said in the room."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said dully. "Always nice to have you back me up."

"Sorry, Harry."

A grey cat, with square markings around its eyes, slipped through the trees and waited beside the three.

"Good evening, Professor!" said Hermione brightly.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," commented Professor McGonagall, having transformed back into human form. "Harry Potter, Professors Dumbledore and Snape would like to have a word with you, if you think you can spare the time."

Harry nodded, unspeaking. He waved miserably to Hermione and Ron as he followed McGonagall back up to the castle.

========================================

This chapter was late because my holiday was long. ;) Sorry.

As always, thanks for the reviews! To answer your questions:

Daria101 -- Yes, I had the time of my life, to use that very clichéd phrase. ;)

Dobby -- Even after your numerous flames, if you're still reading this, then keep reading. He's not really gay, in a sense… I'll stop before I give anything away.

bakakidmilly -- Erm… sorry, no more wacky Draco. Can I offer sarcastic Draco, cynical Draco, confused Draco, and Draco-in-denial?

Katu -- Thanks! Happy reading.

And thank you to… watkin's angel, Juliana Black, SoulSister, whippie, Brittanie, Matura, MiZ PuNk, NFGrl, coriander, Prue Sora Tanya Jasmine, Cami, Ambrosius, Sage Mistress of Magic, Midnight Rain, S. Maldiva, MR, Demeter, Ashleys Angel Delight, LiLGuArDiAnGuRl, Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter, WildRose04, and Luca.


	16. In Continuation Part 6

****

In Continuation Part 6 - And Into The Frying Pan

The first shock was that Dumbledore, for a change, was not smiling. The twinkle had disappeared from his eyes. He looked Harry up and down, glancing at Snape as if for confirmation.

"Mr. Potter," he began, "I am very disappointed in you."

He sounded it, too. Harry's heart began to sink. Perhaps, this time, the rules would not be bent for his sake. He'd be expelled. Oh, one more chance…

"I have been informed that you have been not only disrespectful, but downright rude to a teacher. I have ample proof that you described Professor Snape as a… he peered at the parchment on the desk in front of him (Ron had been right, Harry resolved to tell him) 'biased, slimy scum whose hair looks as if it hadn't been washed in centuries'?"

"That's true sir…" 

"But…"

"There is no room for excuses in this case, Mr. Potter, you do realise that. I do not want to hear 'but'."

"But I didn't say but," protested Harry.

"You've said it twice now," a strained voice said from the corner of the room. "I said it first, though."

Harry turned, slowly, facing the inevitable.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the corner, stroking Fawkes's tail feathers with one hand. He looked pale and on the verge of collapsing.

"D… Malfoy," he corrected himself. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been expelled," Draco said. "Snape owled my father."

"Your father! But…"

"I believe this interview is about _you_, Potter, not Malfoy here," sneered Snape.

Harry turned on him. "You owled Lucius Malfoy and asked him to come _here_?"

"Naturally. He will want to personally remove his son from this school."

Harry swiveled back to Draco. "Didn't you explain?!"

"I tried," said Draco.

"Explain, then," Dumbledore conceded good-naturedly.

"Lucius Malfoy is working with Voldemort!" Harry practically yelled.

Snape flinched from the sheer volume. Harry continued, regardless. "Malfoy was supposed to join the Death Eaters this summer. But he didn't. And he had to run away and his father is after him and Voldemort too and they're going to kill him!"

Dumbledore frowned. "But why would Lucius Malfoy want to kill his only heir? And wouldn't Voldemort be better off trying to persuade young Draco here back to the Dark Side?"

"Not really," admitted Draco. "I mean, he has plenty of Death Eaters already. It's just because I'm a Malfoy. But I told him, in no uncertain terms, to fuck himself."

"Language!" hissed Snape.

Without pausing, Draco said, "Fuck you," then concluded to Dumbledore, "And he's kinda pissed off about that."

Snape was seething. Draco, who seemed to have got his nerve back, sneered, "You can't expel me again, _Snape_. Sorry about that."

Dumbledore said, "You have quite a way with words, young Malfoy."

Draco smirked. "What can I say? It's my burden to bear. And by the way, Harry did say that to Snape, but Snape called him a piece of shit. So I think they're pretty much even, don't you?"

"I'll consider that," Dumbledore mused. "Severus, is it true?"

Snape had gone sallow and seemed to have nothing to say. Dumbledore took his silence to mean a yes. Snape grumbled, but left.

"Well then Harry, I see no reason why you should leave this school. Guard your tongue a bit more carefully in future. You may go now. I wish to talk with Draco Malfoy."

"Please…" began Harry, and stopped, not knowing how to phrase his most unusual request.

"Yes?"

"What about Lucius Malfoy?"

"Voldemort will not enter this castle, you can stop worrying," Dumbledore assured him. "He would not even venture into the Forbidden Forest, as Draco here so correctly guessed."

"How did you…" Draco spluttered.

"Well, I am psychic you know," Dumbledore deadpanned. Seeing the poleaxed looks on everyone's faces, he quickly added, "It's a quote from a Muggle movie. Intriguing."

"X-Men," said Harry, nodding knowledgeably. "I've seen it."

"Why didn't you help me?" Draco asked, not pleading but curious.

"You wrote to Harry for help, in case it has slipped your memory, young Draco. It was up to him, really."

"You're scary sometimes, Professor," laughed Harry.

There was a sharp knocking on the door. McGonagall peeped round the door. "Albus, Lucius Malfoy is here to see you."

=========================================

Ha, ha, ha! Cliffhanger! Sorry, couldn't resist that…

DancingRain -- Yeah, "light angst" sounds good! Pity it isn't a choice for the genre! Maybe ff.net would consider putting in a new category…?

And thanks to:

MidnightUnicorn, Sage Mistress of Magic, DaigonAlley, Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter, Matura, Insane Squirrel, continue!, Morien Alexander, SoulSister, Katu, and whitebearwrites. 

You guys keep me going to the end! See you there. In a few chapters' time… ;)


	17. In Continuation Part 7

****

In Continuation Part 7 - From Frying Pan to Fire

Draco froze. Deer in headlights come to mind. Again.

Dumbledore sighed, settled back in his chair and said, "You may show him in, Minerva."

Lucius Malfoy swept grandly into the room. "Dumbledore," he intoned. "Is this true?"

"If you are asking if your son has been expelled, I'm afraid it is, Mr. Malfoy," replied Dumbledore.

"Where is he?" demanded Lucius. Without waiting for an answer, he fixed his gaze on Draco, who stiffened and clutched wildly for Fawkes. Fawkes, having had his talon seized painfully tight, squawked in protest and rose from his perch, knocking Draco off the chair with one wing.

Draco landed heavily on the floor. Lucius hauled Draco up by the collar. "Explain."

Draco stammered, "Father… I didn't mean to… it just came out of my mouth… I meant to say yes… I really did. Give me another chance… let Him ask again…"

Harry realised with a shock that Draco was not talking about his expulsion, but about the Death Eater incident.

Lucius shook him. "Why did they expel you?" Draco was tall, but he seemed to have shrunk in the presence of his father.

Dumbledore said calmly, "Mr. Malfoy, if you would put your son down, I shall explain."

Lucius strode over to the desk, leaving Draco in the corner. Harry moved to Draco. "Are you alright?"

He wasn't, judging by the way Draco was trembling. It was evident he was trying not to, and failing miserably. 

"Dumbledore's not going to believe me," Draco whispered. "He'll let my father take me… back to…" He choked.

Lucius spun around, noticing for the first time that Harry was also in the room.

"Potter!" he bellowed. "What… I mean, why…" he turned back to Dumbledore. "Potter is the one who has caused my son to be expelled!"

"In a way, yes," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"That's not funny!" Draco called indignantly from the floor.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "I have reason to believe that you should not be allowed to remove your son from the protection that the school may offer him."

"What the devil?!" raged Lucius. "Are you telling me I can't protect my own son?!"

Dumbledore sighed yet again. "I fear I must be blunt with you, Mr. Malfoy. Draco has revealed to us that because he refused to become a Death Eater, you will simply deliver him to Voldemort and kill him."

"Rubbish!" said Lucius scornfully. "He's lying, of course. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Back? He's dead!"

"Show me your Mark, Lucius," commanded Dumbledore.

"Nonsense…" Lucius was blustering, aware that he was losing his debate. "It's always there… it won't fade…"

"Nevertheless, if Voldemort has come back, it will have burnt black, Lucius."

Lucius stopped where he was. Abruptly, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Draco.

Harry had been ready for that. He and Draco both had their wands out, and both cried, "_Expelliarmus_!" the moment Lucius' wand cleared his pocket.

Crude, yet effective. Lucius was blasted backwards. Dumbledore Summoned his wand to him.

"Here is your wand, Lucius," he said, handing it back to the furious man with a twinkle. "I suppose you would like to leave now."

Lucius paused, halfway out of the door. He wasn't a man to waste his words. "The Dark Lord will get you, Draco," he said.

Draco was equally succinct. "Fuck you, Father."

* * * * * * * *

"Did you mean what you said, back there?" Harry asked Draco as they walked away from the Headmaster's office, Harry still in school, Draco expelled.

"I was scared, Harry. Words come out of my mouth when I'm hysterical."

"Would you, though, if you were given the chance again?"

Draco stopped. "Before I say anything else, I want you to understand that it was always something I'd looked forward to when I was young. It was the way I was brought up. And when He asked me, in the summer, I would have said yes. It was like the best thing that had ever happened to me. But I don't know why, but I said no."

Harry corrected, "You told him to fuck himself."

"Yes well that too."

"I should hate you now."

"Because I'm evil."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm also not gay."

Harry stopped and sat down heavily in the middle of the corridor. "What?"

Draco crouched to be on a level with him. "I'm not gay, Harry."

"But… we…"

"We NOTHING! I never did anything with you. I'm evil. You're Harry Potter. I'm not the one for you." he was pleading now.

"No," said Harry. "I won't accept that."

Draco shot back, "Tough. Because I'm going to walk away. And when you've had a think about it, when you've talked with Weasley, you'll realise I'm right."

Harry surged from his cross-legged position, catching Draco in the chest and slamming him into the floor. "You ARE gay!" he yelled at him.

"Well, fine, maybe I am," Draco shouted back. "Or maybe I'm bisexual. Or something. Who gives a fuck? Maybe I like boys. BUT NOT YOU."

He pushed Harry off him. "I hate you," he said, quiet now. "If it hadn't been for you I would be doing exactly what I wanted to do along."

"How EXACTLY is it my fault that YOU said the wrong thing? If I hadn't helped you, you'd be DEAD. You're bloody ungrateful, you know that?" hissed Harry.

"Yes, I am. And being dead would be a better thing than having YOU all over me. Get over it, Potter. I am not for you." Draco's eyes were suspiciously red. Arrogantly, he stood up, brushed himself off and walked away.

Harry sat in the middle of the corridor, alone.

==============================================

We are very near the end… *humming happily*

To my readers:

Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter -- The chapters should be coming up one a week on Sundays, barring anything unexpected that may prevent me from getting to my computer, like the end of the world. ;)

Kika -- The story is finishing soon. Calm your nerves! :)

Sage Mistress of Magic -- Whose head are you hitting?

Katu -- Here ya go.

Alynnia*McKinnon -- Uncalled for, true. I was going to make him kidnap Draco and take him to his secret lair in the Bahamas while ransoming him to Lucius Malfoy, but… 

SoulSister -- Something bad happened, do you reckon? I'm not too sure myself.

DaigonAlley -- That depends on whether you think a week is "soon". Thanks for your support!

Keep rocking all!!

--Sera


	18. In Continuation Part 8

****

In Continuation Part 8 - Humour

The following day, late afternoon.

Harry scribbled madly, copying notes off the board. He studiously did not look at the empty place previously occupied by Draco Malfoy.

"Harry? You all right?" Hermione asked, peering anxiously over the top of her cauldron at him.

"Yeah," muttered Harry listlessly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

In answer, she pointed at his parchment. Harry looked down blankly and read,

__

Simmer the potion at the temperature of a medium red fire, ensuring that why won't Draco admit he likes me too the powdered herbs do not evaporate, as this will cause I wonder where he is now the potion to have an adverse effect when consumed. I'm so confused, After one and a half hours it should have gained the colour and consistency of Stop. Thinking. About. Him!!

"Ah," he said.

"I don't want to know, Harry," Hermione was saying, "But you'd better sort this problem out yourself. We can't help you here."

"Granger!" Snape hissed. "You're talking when you should be writing. Five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione bit her lip and bent her head over her work. 

"Potter, you're writing when you should be preparing the ingredients," Snape continued, maliciously. "Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."

Harry took no notice. He was thinking of someone else.

* * * * * * * 

Draco lay on his back in the room he'd been allocated. Technically, he wasn't a Hogwarts pupil anymore, and so was not allowed to sleep in the dorms with the others. He watched a moth flutter, trapped in the lantern.

He got up abruptly, walked out and slammed the door shut. Behind him, the moth flew into the flame and burnt itself to a crisp.

* * * * * * *

"Well done, Goyle. Ten points to Slytherin," Snape looked smug. "Weasley, tell me, what are two of the uses of the blood of a Kneazle?"

Ron said, "Um… cleaning, and…"

"It is evident you did not do the reading I assigned last night. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"That's not very fair, is it?"

The entire class turned to face the voice speaking from the doorway. Draco was, astoundingly, smirking.

"And what would _you_ know about fair, Master Malfoy?" Snape growled, outraged. "Remove yourself before I have you thrown out."

"Oh, but that would be endangering my safety. And that's the precise reason I'm still at Hogwarts, even though you were so kind as to expel me, Professor," Draco countered, wide eyed, dripping sarcasm.

"Get out," Snape yelled, losing his temper.

Draco wagged his finger and tutted, "I won't not go if you don't say please," he imitated Peeves' accent.

"Get OUT!" Snape bellowed, whipping out his wand and pointing it at Draco.

By now the whole class was rapt. They'd never seen Snape lose control so totally before, unless he was chewing out Harry, but that was different. Snape slowly became aware of the eyes focused on his person. He unabashedly tucked his wand back into the folds of his robes. 

"Malfoy, why are you here?" he grated. It sounded like he was forcing the words out past a boulder of rage in his throat.

"I was bored," drawled Draco. "Thought I'd mosey on over here and spice things up a little."

"I can't believe you just said 'mosey'." Ron blurted out. "Wouldn't have thought it of you, Malfoy."

"Times change," Draco replied cooly. He waved his hand regally at Snape. "Do go on with your lesson, _Professor_, it's most interesting." He gazed around the class, aloof, before seating himself down in his usual place. "You all know that Potions is my favourite subject."

Laughter swelled up before Snape shot the class a look. "Unless you all want to end up like Malfoy here, banished from Hogwarts in disgrace, you'll do well to remember that I am in charge here."

Into the sudden silence Draco said, "I don't feel very banished. I'm still here, aren't I?"

Snape went purple with the effort of not cursing Draco to hell.

The bell rang at that moment. "Saved by the bell," Hermione commented as she packed her bags and swept out of the classroom."

The students rushed out, chattering eagerly, until Snape was the only person left in the room. With a scowl of hatred, he snatched up a delicate vial on his desk, and hurled it to the floor.

"Aargh!" he yelled, for lack of a better expression.

========================================

Thanks for the reviews:

DaigonAlley, writemore, Morien Alexander, Kristen, Vashy, Sage Mistress of Magic, Alynnia*McKinnon, Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter, and coriander.


	19. In Continuation Part 9

****

In Continuation Part 9 - The Last Chapter, 

In Which We Discuss Draco's Sexuality

"Way to keep a low profile," Harry laughed as he walked with Draco out of the school buildings.

"I was _bored_," Draco whined, looking injured. "You have no idea how dull the view of a ceiling is."

"Worse than the view of the underneath of the stairs?"

Draco looked confused.

"Never mind," said Harry, who didn't feel like explaining his family history at that moment.

There was a pregnant pause.

Harry burst out, "Draco, tell me the truth. Are you… attracted to me?"

Draco said in a monotone, "I think half the school is."

"Answer the question."

They reached the lake. Without asking, Harry crawled into the concealed shelter. Draco followed.

"Answer the question."

Draco said nothing.

"_Answer the fucking question!!!_"

Draco blinked, startled. "Well, if you feel _that_ strongly…"

Harry turned to face him, irritated beyond measure. "Cut the crap! Of _course_ I feel that strongly! Can't you see, I can't stop thinking about you, I can't take my mind off you, I can't imagine anything without you, I just can't! And you have to be such a… a…" words failed him.

Draco drawled, "The great Harry Potter does not realise what he's saying. He must be drunk."

"_Shut up!!!_ You know that's not true. I've never even touched a drop of alcohol, unlike yourself. And I'm not 'The Great Harry Potter'. I'm just Harry."

"I wasn't actually thinking of alcohol…. There are other things one can be drunk on…"

"I don't care! _Are you, or aren't you?!_"

Draco rolled over to face Harry. "What do you think, Potter?" he asked, carefully.

"Ye-es."

"Genius!"

"But… why then…"

There was a measured silence. "Harry… have you heard of bisexuals?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

"Good, then I don't have to give you the facts of life speech that my father gave me when I was five."

Harry looked at him sideways. 

"Well," Draco expanded, "Maybe nine or seven. Eight?"

"You're saying you're bisexual?"

"You said. I never said." Another pause. "Okay, yes."

"And you think that's something to be ashamed of?"

Draco whispered, "I'm afraid if I told you that you wouldn't want me any more."

"Oh," was all Harry could come up with.

The two boys lay there, companionably noiseless in the tranquillity of the shelter. 

By and by, the sun setting behind the lake cast its dying rays of light into the hollow, haloing Draco's hair with shimmering streaks of silver and gold, making him seem to Harry like a deity utterly desirable yet simultaneously, undoubtedly achievable.

Harry held Draco as the sun disappeared below the horizon.

THE END.

And that's that.

I wanted to thank all you readers (and especially the reviewers) personally, but… there were too many of you. So thanks! Couldn't have finished this fic without all your support. And… the gratitude can drag on. I'll stop right here.

Keep rocking!!

--Sera


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